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A  UTHOR: 


HAMILTON,  WILLIAM 


TITLE: 


METAPHYSICS 


PLA  CE: 


CAMBRIDGE 


DA  TE: 


[1861] 


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THE 


METAPHYSICS 


OF 


1 


SIR   WILLIAM    HAMILTON, 


I 

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1 1 


COLLECTED,,  ARRANGED,  AND  ABRIDGED, 


FOR  THE  USE  OF  COLLEGES  AND  PRIVATE  STUDENTS,, 


BY 


FRANCIS    BOWEN, 

AtFORl)  PEOraSSOE  OF  MORAL  PHUOBOPHY  Di  HAEVAED  COLLBGK.^ 


B 


CAMBRIDGE: 

SEVER   AND   FRANCIS 

186  1. 


\ 


i 


110 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  CongrcM  in  the  year  1861,  by 

SEVER  AND   FRANCIS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Maasachusettfi. 


ill 


CAMBRIDGE : 
Allen  and  Famham,  Stereotypers  and  Printer*. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  unfortunate  that  Sir  William  Hamilton  did  not 
undertake  fully  to  digest  his  metaphysical  opi^iions  into 
system,  and  to  publish  them  as  one  orderly  and  connected 
whole.  He  had  a  system,  for  he  was  eminently  a  method- 
ical and  self-consistent  thinker ;  but  it  was  built  up  piece- 
meal, and  so  given  to  the  world,  at  various  times,  in  succes- 
sive articles  in  the  Edinburgh  Review ;  in  copious  notes, 
appendices,  and  other  additions  to  these  articles  when  they 
were  republished  as  a  volume  of  "  Discussions,"  and  again, 
when  these  "  Discussions  "  passed  to  a  second  edition  ;  in 
the  Notes,  and,  still  more  at  length,  in  the  Supplementary 
Dissertations,  to  his  ponderous  edition  of  Reid  ;  and  finally, 
in  the  memoranda  prepared  at  different  times  and  for  vari- 
ous purposes,  which  his  English  editors  gathered  up  and 
annexed  to  the  posthumous  publication  of  his  "  Lectures 
on  Metaphysics."  While  neither  of  these  works  furnishes 
an  outline  of  his  system  as  a  whole,  each  one  of  them  con- 
tains a  statement,  more  or  less  complete,  of  his  principal 
doctrines  and  arguments,  so  that,  taken  together,  they 
abound  in  repetitions.  Even  the  "  Lectures,"  which  afford 
the  nearest  approach  to  a  full  and  systematic  exposition  of 
his  opinions,  besides  laboring  under  the  necessary  disad- 
vantage of  a  posthumous  publication,  never  finally  revised 
by  the  author  for  the  press,  and  probably  not  even  intended 
by  him  to  be  printed,  were  first  written  by  him  in  great 
haste  at  the  time  (1836)  of  his  original  appointment  to  a 
Professorship  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  and  seem  to 
have  received  but  few  subsequent  alterations  or  additions, 
though  his  opinions  certainly  underwent  afterwards  con- 
siderable development  and  modification. 

As  any  course  of  instruction  in  the  Philosophy  of  Mind 


I  iii  \ 


7SQ20 


ly 


PREFACE. 


at  the  present  day  must  be  very  imperfect  which  does 
not  comprise  a  tolerably  full  view  of  Hamilton's  Meta- 
physics, I  have  endeavored,  in  the  present  volume,  to  pre- 
pare a  text-book  which  should  contain,  in  his  own  language, 
the  substance  of  all  that  he  has  written  upon  the  subject. 
For  this  purpose,  the  "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics  "  have  been 
taken  as  the  basis  of  the  work ;  and  I  have  freely  abridged 
them  by  striking  out  the  repetitions  and  redundancies  in 
which  they  abound,  and  omitting  also,  in  great  part,  the 
load  of  citations  and  references  that  they  contain,  as  these 
are  of  inferior  interest  except  to  a  student  of  the  history  of 
philosophy,  or  as  marks  of  the  stupendous  erudition  of  the 
author.  The  space  acquired  by  these  abridgments  has 
enabled  me  to  interweave  into  the  book,  in  their  appro- 
priate place  and  connection,  all  those  portions  of  the  "  Dis- 
cussions," and  of  the  Notes  and  Dissertations  supplemen- 
tary to  Reid,  which  seemed  necessary  either  to  elucidate 
and  confirm  the  text,  or  to  supplement  it  with  the  later 
and  more  fully  expressed  opinions  of  the  author.  These 
insertions,  always  distinguished  by  angular  brackets  [  ], 
and  referred  to  the  source  whence  they  were  drawn,  are 
very  numerous  and  considerable  in  amount;  sometimes 
they  are  several  pages  long,  others  do  not  exceed  in  length 
a  single  paragraph,  or  even  a  single  sentence.  The  au- 
thor's language  has  invariably  been  preserved,  and  where- 
ever  a  word  or  two  had  to  be  altered  or  supplied,  to  pre- 
serve the  connection,  the  inserted  words  have  been  enclosed 
in  brackets.  The  divisions  between  the  Lectures,  necessa- 
rily arbitrary,  as  the  limits  of  a  discourse  of  fixed  length 
could  not  coincide  with  the  natural  division  of  the  subject, 
have  not  been  preserved  in  this  edition.  A  chapter  here 
often  begins  in  the  middle  of  a  Lecture,  and  sometimes 
comprises  two  or  more  Lectures.  A  very  few  notes,  criti- 
cal or  explanatory  in  character,  are  properly  distinguished 
as  supplied  by  the  American  Editor. 

It  has  been  a  laborious,  but  not  a  disagreeable  task,  to 
examine  and  collate  three  bulky  octavos,  with  a  view  thus 
to  condense  their  substance  into  a  single  volume  of  moder- 
ate  dimensions.  I  cannot  promise  tliat  the  work  has  been 
thoroughly,  but  only  that  it  has  been  carefully,  done. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 


Utility  of  the  Study  op  Philosophy    . 


CHAPTER    II. 


The  Nature  and  Comprehension  of  Philosophy 


Vagi 
1 


27 


CHAPTER    III. 

The   Causes   of    Philosophy,   and   the   Dispositions 
with  which  it  ought  to  be  studied  ....      40 


CHAPTER    IV. 


The  Method  of  Philosophy 


CO 


CHAPTER    V. 


The  Divisions  of  Philosophy  . 


71 


( 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Definition   of   Psychology:   Relativity   of    Human 
Knowledge:  Explication  of  Terms    ....      84 

CHAPTER    VII 


Explication  of  Terms  continued   . 


99 


(V) 


▼1 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 
Distribution  of  Mental  Phenomena:  Special   Con- 


ditions OF  Consciousness 


120 


CHAPTER   IX. 
Consciousness  not  a  Special  Faculty 


135 


CHAPTER    X. 

Consciousness  not  a  Special  Faculty  continued:  its 
relation  to  Perception,  Attention,  and   Reflec- 

148 
tion 


175 


CHAPTER    XI. 
Consciousness,  —  ITS  Evidence  and  Authority    . 

CHAPTER    XII. 


Violations  of  the  Authority  of  Consciousness  in 
Various  Theories  of  Perception        .        .        .        .193 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

General  Pilenomena  of  Consciousness:  Are  we  al- 
ways consciously  active? 215 

CHAPTER    XIV. 


General  Phenomena  of  Consciousness  :  Is  the  Mind 
ever  unconsciously  modified? 

CHAPTER    XV. 

General  Ph.enomena  of  Consciousness  :  Difficulties 
AND  Facilities  of  Psychological  Study:  Classifi- 
cation OF  the'  Cognitive  Faculties   .... 


235 


\ 


\ 


t 


CONTENTS. 


Vll 


I 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

The  Present ative  Faculty:  Reid's  Historical  View 
OF  the  Theories  of  Perception 276 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

The  Presentative  Faculty  :  Perception  :  Was  Reid  a 
Natural  Realist? 295 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

The  Presentative  Faculty  :  The  Distinction  of  Per- 
ception proper  from  Sensation  proper:  Primary 
AND  Secondary  Qualities 313 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

The  Presentative  Faculty  :  Objections  to  the  Doc- 
trine of  Natural  Realism  considered:  the  Rep- 
resentative Hypothesis  refuted        ....    342 

CHAPTER    XX. 

The  Presentative  Faculty:  General  Questions  re- 
lating to  the  Senses:  Perceptions  by  Sight  and 
Touch 3^3 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

The  Presentative  Faculty  :  Recapitulation  :  H.  Self- 
Consciousness    ;   389 

CHAPTER    XXII. 
The  Conservative  Faculty:  Memory  Proper     .       .    409 


254 


VIU 


CONTENTS. 


\ 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

The  Reproductive  Faculty:  Laws  of  Association: 
Suggestion  and  Reminiscence ^21 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 
The  Representative  Faculu:  Imagination 


.     443 


> 


HAMILTON'S    METAPHYSICS. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

The  Elaborative  Faculty  :  Classification  :  Abstrac- 
tion  and    Ge-ieralization:    Nominalism   and   Con- 


CEPTUALISM 


456 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

The  Elaborative  Faculty:  The  Pit. mum  Cognitum  : 
Judgment  and  Reasoning 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 
The  Regulative  Faculty  :  The  Philosophy  of  the 


480 


Conditioned 


499 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 


The  Regulative  Faculty  :  Lajvt  of  the  Conditioned 

IN   ITS   application   TO   THE   DOCTRINE   OF    CAUSALITY       531 


h 


CHAPTER    I. 

UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

Some  things  are  valuable,  finally,  or  for  themselves,  —  these 
are  ends  ;  other  things  are  valuable,  not  on  their  own  account, 
but  as  conducive  to^vards  certain  ulterior  ends,  —  these  are 
means.  The  value  of  ends  is  a]»>olute,  —  the  value  of  means 
is  relative.  Absolute  value  is  properly  called  2i  good, — rela- 
tive value  is  properly  called  a  utility.  Of  goods,  or  absolute 
ends,  there  are  for  man  but  two,  —  perfection  and  happiness. 
By  perfection  is  meant  the  full  and  harmonious  development  of 
all  our  faculties,  corporeal  and  mental,  intellectual  and  moral ; 
by  happiness,  the  complement  of  all  the  pleasures  of  which  we 
are  susceptible. 

Now,  I  may  state,  though  I  cannot  at  present  attempt  to 
prove,  that  human  perfection  and  human  happiness  coincide, 
and  tlius  constitute,  in  reality,  but  a  smgle  end.  For  a.s,  on  the 
one  hand,  the  perfection  or  full  development  of  a  power  is  in 
proportion  to  its  capacity  of  free,  vigorous,  and  continued 
action,  so  on  the  other,  all  pleasure  is  the  concomitant  of  activ- 
ity ;  its  degree  being  in  proportion  as  that  activity  is  sponta- 
neously intense,  its  prolongation  in  proportion  as  that  activity  is 
spontaneously  continued;  whereas,  pain  arises  either  from  a 
faculty  being  restrained  in  its  spontaneous  tendency  to  action, 
or  from  being  urged  to  a  degree,  or  to  a  continuance,  of  energy 

1  (1) 


2  UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

beyond  the  limit  to  which  it  of  itself  freely  tends.  To  pro- 
mote our  perfection  is  thus  to  promote  our  happiness  ;  for  to 
cultivate  fully  and  harmoniously  our  various  faculties,  is  simply 
to  enable  them,  by  exercise,  to  energize  longer  and  stronger 
without  painful  effort ;  that  is,  to  afford  us  a  larger  amount  of  a 
higher  quahty  of  enjoyment. 

In  considering  the  utility  of  a  branch  of  knowledge,  it  be- 
hooves us,  in  the  first  place,  to  estimate  its  value  as  viewed 
srniply  in  itself;  and,  in  the  second,  its  value  as  viewed  m  rela- 
tion to  other  branches.     Considered  in  itself,  a  science  is  valua- 
ble in  proportion  as  its  cultivation  is  immediately  conducive  to 
the  mental  improvement  of  the  cultivator.     This  may  be  called 
its  Absolute  utility.    In  relation  to  others,  a  science  is  valuable  m 
proportion  as  its  study  is  necessary  for  the  prosecution  of  other 
branches  of  knowledge.     This  may  be  called  its  Relative  utility. 
Absolute  uiility  of  two  kinds  —  Suhjectwe  and  Objective.^ 
In  the  former  point  of  view,  that  is,  considered  absolutely,  or  m 
itseli;  the  philosophy  of  mind  comprises  two  several  utilities, 
axicording  as  it,  1°,  Cuhivates  the  mind  or  knowing  subject,  by 
caUing  its  faculties  into  exercise ;  and,  2°,  Furnishes  the  mmd 
with  a  certain  complement  of  truths  or  objects  of  knowledge. 
The  former  of  these  constitutes  its  Subjective,  the  latter  its 
Objective  utility.     These  utilities  are  not  the  same,  nor  do  they 
even  stand  to  each  other  in  any  necessary  proportion.     As  an 
individual  may  possess  an  ample  magazine  of  knowledge,,  and 
still  be  little  better  than  an  intellectual  barbarian,  so  the  utility 
of  one  science  may  be  chiefly  seen  in  aflbrding  a  greater  num- 
ber of  higher  and  more  indisputable  truths,  — the  utility  of 
another  in  determining  the  faculties  to  a  higher  energy,  and 
consequentlv  to  a  liigher  education. 

There  are  few,  I  believe,  disposed  to  question  the  speculative 
dignity  of  mental  science ;  but  its  practical  utility  is  not  unfre- 
quently  denied.  To  what,  it  is  asked,  is  the  science  of  mmd 
conducive  ?     What  iire  its  uses  ? 

What  is  Practical  Utilifyf  —  l  am  not  one  of  those  who 
think  that  the  importance  of  a  study  is  sufficiently  estabUshed 
when  its  dignity  is  admitted ;  for,  holding  that  knowledge  is 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


3 


M 


•/; 


/ 


I 


for  the  sake  of  man,  and  not  man  for  the  sake  of  knowledge,  it 
is  necessary,  in  order  to  vindicate  its  value,  that  every  science 
should  be  able  to  show  what  are  the  advantages  which  it  prom- 
ises to  confer  upon  its  student.  I,  therefore,  profess  myself  a 
utilitarian  ;  and  it  is  only  on  the  special  ground  of  its  utility  that  I 
would  claim  for  the  philosophy  of  mind,  what  I  regard  as  its 
peculiar  and  preeminent  importance.  But  what  is  a  utihtarian  ? 
Simply  one  who  prefers  the  Useful  to  the  Useless  — and  who 
does  not  ?  But  what  is  the  useful  ?  That  which  is  prized,  not 
on  its  own  account,  but  as  conducive  to  the  acquisition  of  some- 
thing else, —the  useful  is,  in  short,  only  another  word  for  a 
mean  towards  an  end ;  for  every  mean  is  useful,  and  whatever 
is  useful  is  a  mean.  Now  the  value  of  a  mean  is  always  in 
proportion  to  the  value  of  its  end ;  and  the  useful  being  a  mean, 
it  follows,  that,  of  two  utilities,  the  one  which  conduces  to  the 
more  valuable  end  will  be  itself  the  more  valuable  utility. 

So  far  there  is  no  difference  of  opinion.  All  agree  that  the 
useful  is  a  mean  towards  an  end;  and  that,  ccsterts paribus,  a. 
mean  towards  a  higher  end  constitutes  a  higher  utility  than  a 
mean  towards  a  lower.  The  only  dispute  that  has  arisen,  or 
can  possibly  arise,  in  regard  to  the  utiUty  of  means  (supposing 
always  their  relative  efficiency),  is  founded  on  the  various  views 
that  may  be  entertained  in  regard  to  the  existence  and  compar- 
ative importance  of  ends. 

Two  errors  in  the  popular  estimate  of  the  comparative  utility 
of  human  sciences.  —  Now  the  various  opinions  which  prevail 
concernmg  the  comparative  utiHty  of  human  sciences  and  stud- 
ies, have  all  arisen  from  two  errors. 

The  first  of  tliese  consists  in  viewing  man,  not  as  an  end 
unto  himself  but  merely  as  a  mean  organized  for  the  sake  of 
something  out  of  himself;  and,  under  this  partial  view  of 
human  destination,  those  branches  of  knowledge  obtain  exclu- 
sively the  name  of  useful,  which  tend  to  qualify  a  human  being 
to  act  the  lowly  part  of  a  dexterous  instrument.  It  has  been 
the  tendency  of  different  ages,  of  different  countries,  of  different 
ranks  and  conditions  of  society,  to  measure  the  utility  of  studies 
rather  by  one  of  these  Standards,  than  by  both.     Thus  it  was 


I 


/ 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


( 


the  bias  of  antiquity,  when  the  moral  and  intellectual  cultivation 
of  the  citizen  was  viewed  as  the  great  end  of  all  political  insti- 
tutions, to  appreciate  all  knowledge  principally  by  the  higher 
standard ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  unfortunately  the  bias  of  oui 
modem  civilization,  since  the  accumulation  (and  not  too  the 
distribution)  of  riches  in  a  country,  has  become  the  grand  prob^ 
lem  of  the  statesman,  to  appreciate  it  rather  by  the  lower. 

The  second,  and  the  more  dangerous,  of  these  errors  consists 
in  regarding  the  cultivation  of  our  faculties  as  subordinate  tt 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  instead  of  regarding  the  posses 
sion  of  knowledge  as  subordinate  to  the  cultivation  of  our  fac- 
ulties ;  and,  in  consequence  of  this  error,  those  sciences  which 
afford  a  greater  number  of  more  certain  fixcts,  have  been  deemed 
superior  in  utility  to  those  which  bestow  a  higher  cultivation  on 
the  higher  faculties  of  the  mind. 

Man  an  end  unto  himself.  —  As  to  the  first  of  these  errors, 
the  fallacy  is  so  palpable,  that  we  may  well  wonder  at  its  prev- 
alence.    It  is  manifest,  mdeed,  that  man,  in  so  far  as  he  is  a 
mean  for  the  glory  of  God,  must  be  an  end  unto  himself;  for  it 
is  only  in  the  accomplishment  of  his  own  pei-fection,  that,  as  a 
creature,  he  can  manil'est  the  glory  of  his  Creator.     Though 
therefore  man,  by  relation  to  Goil,  be  but  a  mean,  for  that  very 
reason,  in  relation  to  all  else  is  he  an  end.     Wherefore,  now 
speaking  of  him  exclusively  in  his  natural  capacity  and  tempo- 
ral relations,  I  say  it  is  manifest  that  man  is  by  nature  necessa- 
rily an    end  to  himself,  —  that    his    perfection   and   happiness 
constitute  the  goal  of  his  activity,  to  which  he  tends,  and  ought 
to  tend,  when  not  diverted  from  this,  his  general  and  native 
destination,  by  peculiar  and  accidental  circumstances.     But  it  is 
equally  evident,  that,  under  the  condition  of  society,  individual 
men  are,  for  the  most  part,  to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  actually 
so  diverted.     To  live,  the  individual  must  have  the  means  of 
living;  and  these  means  (unless  he  already  possess  them)  he 
must  procure,  —  he  must  purchase.     But  purchase  whh  what  ? 
With  his  services,  i.  e.  —  he  must  reduce  himself  to  an  instru- 
ment,—  an  instrument  of  utihty  to  others;  and  the  services  of 
this  instrument  he  must  barter  for  those  means  of  subsistence 


(I 


/; 


/' 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  5 

of  which  he  is  in  want.     In  other  words,  he  must  exercise  some 
trade,  calling,  or  profession. 

Thus,  in  the  actualities  of  social  life,  each  man,  instead  of 
being  solely  an  end  to  himself,  —  instead  of  being  able  to  make 
every  thing  subordinate  to  that  full  and  harmonious  develop- 
ment of  his  individual  faculties,  m  which  his  fuU  perfection  and 
his  true  happiness  consist,  —  is,  in  general,  compelled  to  degrade 
himself  into  the  mean  or  instrument  towards  the  accompHsh- 
ment  of  some  end  external  to  himself,  and  for  the  benefit  of 
others. 

Liberal  and  Professional  Education.  —  Now  the  perfection 
of  man  as  an  end,  and  the  perfection  of  man  as  a  mean  or  in- 
strument, are  not  only  not  the  same ;  they  are,  in  reality,  gen- 
erally opposed.      And  as   these  two  perfections  ai-e  different, 
so  the  training  requisite  for  their  acquisition  is  not  identical' 
and   has,  accordingly,  been  distinguished   by  different  names. 
The  one  is  styled  Liberal,  the  other  Professional  education,  — 
the  branches  of  knowledge  cultivated  for  these   purposes  be- 
ing called  respectively  liberal  and  professional,  or  Hberal  and 
lucrative,  sciences.     By  the  Gei-mans,  the  latter  are  usually 
distinguished  as  the  Brodwissenschaften,  which  we  may  trans- 
late. The  Bread  and  Butter  Sciences.     A  few  of  the  professions, 
indeed,  as  requiring  a  higher  development  of  the  higher  faculties, 
and  involving,  therefore,  a  greater  or  less  amount  of  liberal 
education,  have  obtained  the  name  of  liberal  professions.     We 
must,  however,  recollect  that  this  is  only  an  accidental  and  a 
very  partial  exception.     But  though  the  full  and  harmonious 
development  of  our  faculties  be  the  high  and  natural  destination 
of  aU,  while  the  cultivation  of  any  professional  dexterity  is  only 
a  contingency,  though  a  contingency  incumbent  upon  most,  it 
has,  however,  happened  that  the  paramount  and  universal  end 
of  man,  — of  man  absolutely,  — has  been  often  ignorantly  lost 
sight  of,  and  the  term  useful  appropriated  exclusively  to  those 
acquirements  which  have  a  value  only  to  man  considered  in  his 
relative,  lower,  and  accidental  character  of  an  instrument.     But, 
because  some  have  thus  been  led  to  appropriate  the  name  of 
useful  to  those  studies  and  objects  of  knowledge,  which  are 

1* 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF   PHILOSOPHY. 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


conducive  to  the  inferior  end,  it  assuredly  does  not  foUow  that 
those  conducive  to  the  higher  have  not  a  tar  preferable  title  to 
the  name  thus  curiously  denied  to  them.  Even  admitting, 
therefore,  that  the  study  of  mind  is  of  no  immediate  advantage 
in  preparing  the  student  for  many  of  the  subordinate  parts  in 
the  mechanism  of  society,  its  utility  cannot,  on  that  account,  be 
called  in  question,  unless  it  be  asserted  that  man  "  liveth  by 
bread  alone,"  and  has  no  higher  destination  than  that  of  the 
caUing  by  which  he  earns  his  subsistence. 

Knoivledge  and  intellectual  cultivation,  — T\\q  second  error 
to  which  I  have  adverted,  reverses  the  relative  subordination  of 
knowledge  and  of  intellectual  cultivation.  Li  refutation  of  this, 
I  shall  attempt  briefly  to  show,  firstly,  that  knowledge  and 
intellectual  cultivation  are  not  identical ;  secondly,  that  knowl- 
edt^e  is  itself  principally  valuable  as  a  mean  of  intellectual  cul- 
tivation ;  and,  lastly,  that  intellectual  cultivation  is  more  directly 
and  effectually  accomplished  by  the  study  of  mind  than  by  any 
other  of  our  rational  pursuits. 

But  to  prevent  misapprehension,  I  may  premise  what  I  mean 
by  knowledge,  and  what  by  intellectual  cultivation.  By  knowl- 
edge is  understood  the  mere  possession  of  truths  ;  by  intellectual 
cultivation,  or  intellectual  development,  the  power,  acquired 
through  exercise  by  the  higher  faculties,  of  a  more  varied,  vig- 
orous and  protracted  activity. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  it  will  be  requisite,  I  conceive,  to  say 
but  little  to  show  that  knowledge  and  intellectual  development 
are  not  only  not  the  same,  but  stand  in  no  necessary  proportion 
to  each  other.  This  is  manifest,  if  we  consider  the  very  dif- 
ferent conditions  under  which  these  two  qualities  are  acquired. 
The  one  condition  under  which  all  powers,  and  consequently 
the  intellectual  faculties,  are  developed,  is  exercise.  The  more 
intense  and  continuous  the  exercise,  the  more  vigorously  de- 
veloped will  be  the  power. 

But  a  certain  quantity  of  knowledge,  — in  other  words,  a 
certain  amount  of  possessed  truths,  —  does  not  suppose,  as  its 
condition,  a  corresponding  sum  of  intellectual  exercise.  One 
truth   requires    much,  another   truth    requires    little,  effort  in 


I 


acquisition  ;  and,  while  the  original  discovery  of  a  truth  evolves 
perhaps  a  maximum  of  the  highest  quahty  of  energy,  the  sub- 
sequent learning  of  that  truth  elicits  probably  but  a  minimum 
of  the  very  lowest. 

Is  truth  or  mental  exercise  the  superior  end?  —  But,  as  it  is 
evident  that  the  possession  of  truths,  and  the  development  of 
the  mind  in  which  they  are  deposited,  are  not  identical,  I  pro- 
ceed, in  the  second  place,  to  show  that,  considered  as  ends,  and 
in  relation  to  each  other,  the  knowledge  of  truths  is  not  su- 
preme, but  subordinate  to  the  cultivation  of  the  knowing  mind. 
The  question  — Is  Truth,  or  is  the  Mental  Exercise  in  the  pur- 
suit of  truth,  the  superior  end  ?  —  this  is  perhaps  the  most 
curious  theoretical,  and  certainly  the  most  important  practical, 
problem  in  the  whole  compass  of  philosophy.  For,  according 
to  the  solution  at  which  we  arrive,  must  we  accord  the  higher 
or  the  lower  rank  to  certain  great  departments  of  study  ;  and, 
what  is  of  more  importance,  the  character  of  its  solution,  as  it 
determines  the  aim,  regulates  from  first  to  last  the  method, 
which  an  enlightened  science  of  education  must  adopt. 

But,  however  curious  and  important,  this  question  has  never, 
in  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  been  regularly  discussed.  Nay,  what 
is  still  more  remarkable,  the  erroneous  alternative  has  been 
very  generally  assumed  as  true.  The  consequence  of  this  has 
been,  that  sciences  of  far  inferior,  have  been  elevated  above 
sciences  of  far  superior,  utility ;  while  education  has  been  sys- 
tematically distorted,  —  though  truth  and  nature  have  occa- 
sionally burst  the  shackles  which  a  perverse  theory  had  im- 
posed. The  reason  of  this  is  sufficiently  obvious.  At  first 
sight,  it  seems  even  absurd  to  doubt  that  truth  is  more  valuable 
than  its  pursuit ;  for  is  this  not  to  say  that  the  end  is  less  im- 
portant than  the  mean? — and  on  this  superficial  view  is  the 
prevalent  misapprehension  founded.  A  slight  consideration 
will,  however,  expose  the  fallacy. 

Practical  and  speculative  Knowledge;  their  ends. —  Knowl- 
edge is  either  practical  or  speculative.  In  practical  knowledge 
it  is  evident  that  truth  is  not  the  ultimate  end ;  for,  in  that  case, 
knowledge  is,  ex  hypothesi,  for  the  sake  of  application.     The 


^ 


8 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


knowledf^e  of  a  moral,  of  a  political,  of  a  religious  truth,  is  of 
value  only  as  it  affords  the  preliminary  or  condition  of  its  exer- 
cise. 

In  speculative  knowledge,  on   the   other   hand,  there   may 
indeed,  at  first  sight,  seem   greater  difhculty ;  but  further  re- 
flection will  prove  that  speculative  truth  is  only  pursued,  and  is 
only  held  of  value,  for  the  sake  of  intellectual  activity :  "  Sor- 
det  cognita  Veritas  "  is  a  shrewd  aphorism  of  Seneca.     A  truth, 
once  known,  falls  into  comparative   insignificance.     It  is  now 
prized  less  on  its  own  account,  than  as  opening  up  new  ways  to 
new  activity,  new  suspense,  new  hopes,  new  discoveries,  new 
self-gratulation.     Every  votary  of  science  is  wilfully  ignorant 
of  a  thousand  estabhshed  facts,  — of  a  thousand  which  he  might 
make  his  own  more  easily  than  he  could  attempt  the  discovery 
of  even  one.     But  it  is  not  knowledge,  —  it  is  not  truth,  —  that 
he  principally  seeks ;  he  seeks  the  exercise  of  his  faculties  and 
feehngs ;  and,  as  in  following  after  the  one,  he  exerts  a  greater 
amount  of  pleasurable  energy  than  in  taking  formal  possession 
of  the  thousand,  he  disdains  the  certainty  of  the  many,  and  pre- 
fers the  chances  of  the  one.     Accordingly,  the  sciences  always 
studied  with  keenest  interest  are  those  in  a  state  of  progress 
and   uncertainty;    absolute  certainty  and  absolute  completion 
would  be  the  paralysis  of  any  study ;  and  the  last  worst  calam- 
ity that  could  befall  man,  as  he  is  at  present  constituted,  would 
be  that  full  and  final  possession  of  speculative  truth,  which  he 
now  vainly  anticipates  as  the  consummation  of  his  intellectual 
happiness. 

"  Qiiaesivit  ccelo  lucem,  ingemuitque  reperta." 

But  what  is  true  of  science,  is  true,  indeed,  of  all  human  axj- 
tivity.  "  In  life,"  as  the  great  Pascal  observes,  "  we  always 
believe  that  we  are  seeking  repose,  while,  in  reality,  all  that  we 
ever  seek  is  ajritation."  It  is  ever  the  contest  that  pleases  us, 
and  not  the  victory.  Thus  it  is  in  play ;  thus  it  is  in  hunting ; 
thus  it  is  in  the  search  of  truth ;  thus  it  is  in  life.  The  past 
does  not  interest,  the  present  does  not  satisfy,  the  future  alone 
is  the  object  wliich  engages  us. 


J 


A 


\ 


»l 


UTILITY   OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  9 

"  (Nullo  votorum  fine  beati) 
Victuros  agiraus  semper,  nee  vivimus  unquam." 

The  question,  I  said,  has  never  been  regularly  discussed, 

probably  because  it  lay  in  too  narrow  a  compass ;  but  no  philos- 
opher appears  to  have  ever  seriously  proposed  it  to  himself,  who 
did  not  resolve  it  in  contradiction  to  the  ordinary  opinion.  A 
contradiction  of  this  opinion  is  even  involved  in  the  very  term 
Philosophy ;  and  the  man  who  first  declared  that  he  was  not  a 
(Toqpo?,  or  possessor,  but  a  (pdoaoqjog,  or  seeker  of  truth,  at  once 
enounced  the  true  end  of  human  speculation,  and  embodied  it  in 
a  significant  name.  Under  the  same  conviction,  Plato  defines 
man  "  the  hunter  of  truth,"  for  science  is  a  chase,  and  in  a  chase, 
the  pursuit  is  always  of  greater  value  than  the  game. 

"  The  intellect,"  says  Aristotle,  in  one  passage,  "  is  perfected, 
not  by  knowledge,  but  by  activity ; "  and  in  another,  "  The  arts 
and  sciences  are  powers,  but  every  power  exists  only  for  the 
sake  of  action  ;  the  end  of  philosophy,  therefore,  is  not  knowl- 
edge, but  the  energy  conversant  about  knowledge."     The  pro- 
foundest  thinkers  of  modern  times  have  emphatically  testified 
to  the  same  great  principle.     "  If,"  says  Malebranche,  "  I  held 
truth  cai)tive  in  my  hand,  I  should  open  my  hand  and  let  it  fly, 
in  order  that  I  might  again  pursue  and  capture  it."     "  Did  the 
Almiglity,"  says  Lessing,  "  holding  in  his  right  hand  Truth,  and 
in  his  left  Search  after  Truth,  deign  to  tender  me  the  one  I 
might  prefer,  —  in  all  Immility,  but  without  hesitation,  I  should 
request  Search  after  Truths     [We  exist  only  as  we  energize  ; 
pleasure  is   the  reflex  of   unimpeded  energy;    energy  is  the 
means  by  which  our  faculties    are    developed;   and  a  higher 
energy  the  end  which  their  development  proposes.     In  action  is 
thus  contained  the  existence,  happiness,  improvement,  and  per- 
fection of  our  being ;  and  knowledge  is  only  precious,  as  it  may 
afford  a  stimulus  to  the  exercise  of  our  powers,  and  the  condi- 
tion  of  their  more   complete   activity.     Speculative   truth  is, 
therefore,  subordinate  to   speculation  itself;   and   its  value  is 
directly  measured   by  the  quantity  of  energy  wliich   it  occa- 
sions,—  immediately  m  its  discovery, — mediately  through  its 
consequences.     Life  to  Endymion  was  not  preferable  to  death  : 


10 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


aloof  from  practice,  a  waking  error  is  better  than  a  sleeping 
truth.  —  Neither,  in  point  of  fact,  is  there  found  any  proportion 
between  the  possession  of  truths,  and  the  development  of  the 
mind  in  which  they  are  deposited.  Every  learner  in  science  is 
now  famihar  with  more  truths  than  Aristotle  or  Plato  ever 
dreamt  of  knowing ;  yet,  compared  with  the  Stagirite  or  the 
Athenian,  how  few,  even  of  our  masters  of  modern  science, 
rank  higher  than  intellectual  barbarians  !  Ancient  Greece  and 
modern  Europe  prove,  indeed,  that  "  the  march  of  intellect "  is 
no  inseparable  concomitant  of  "  the  march  of  science  ;  "  —  that 
the  cultivation  of  the  individual  is  not  to  be  rashly  confounded 
with  the  progress  of  the  species.]  —  Discussions. 

Philosophy  best  entitled  to  he  called  usefid.  —  But  if  specula- 
tive truth  itself  be  only  valuable  as  a  mean  of  intellectual 
activity,  those  studies  which  determine  the  faculties  to  a  more 
vigorous  exertion,  will,  in  every  liberal  sense,  be  better  entitled, 
absolutely,  to  the  name  of  useful,  than  those  which,  with  a 
greater  complement  of  more  certain  facts,  awaken  them  to  a 
less  intense,  and  consequently  to  a  less  improving  exercise. 
On  this  ground  I  would  rest  one  of  the  preeminent  utilities  of 
mental  pliilosophy.  That  it  comprehends  all  the  sublimest 
objects  of  our  theoretical  and  moral  interest ;  —  that  every 
(natural)  conclusion  concerning  God,  the  soul,  the  present 
worth  and  the  future  destiny  of  man,  is  exclusively  deduced 
from  the  philosophy  of  mind,  will  be  at  once  admitted.  But  I 
do  not  at  present  found  the  importance  on  the  paramount  dig- 
nity of  the  pursuit.  It  is  as  the  best  gj-mnastic  of  the  mind,  — 
as  a  mean,  principally,  and  almost  exclusively,  conducive  to  the 
highest  education  of  our  noblest  powers,  that  I  would  vindicate 
to  these  speculations  the  necessity  which  has  too  frequently 
been  denied  them.  By  no  other  intellectual  appHcation  is  the 
mind  thus  reflected  on  itself,  and  its  faculties  aroused  to  such 
independent,  vigorous,  unwonted,  and  continued  energy  ;  —  by 
none,  therefore,  are  its  best  capacities  so  variously  and  intensely 
evolved.  "  By  turning,"  says  Burke,  "  the  soul  inward  on 
itself",  its  forces  are  concentred,  and  are  fitted  for  greater  and 
stronger  flights  of  science ;   and  in  tliis  pursuit,  whether  we 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


11 


take  or  whether  -we  lose  our  game,  the  chase  is  certainly  of 
service." 

These  principles  being   established,  it  follows,  that  I  must 
regard  the  main  duty  of  a  Professor  to  consist  not  simply  in 
communicating  information,  but  in  doing  this  in  such  a  manner, 
and  with  such  an  accoijjpaniment  of  subsidiary  means,  that  the 
information  he  conveys  may  be  the  occasion  of  awakening  his 
pupils  to  a   vigorous   and   varied   exertion  of  their  faculties. 
Self-a<;tivity  is  the   indispensable   condition  of  unprovement; 
and  education  is  only  education,  —  that  is,  accomplishes  its  pur- 
pose, only  by  affording  objects  and  supplying  incitements  to  this 
spontaneous  exertion.     Strictly  speaking,  every  one  must  edu- 
cate himself     [All  profitable  study  is  a  silent  disputation  —  an 
intellectual  gymnastic  ;  and  the  most  improving  books  are  pre- 
cisely those  which  most  excite  the  reader,  —  to  understand  the 
author,  to  supply  what  he  has  omitted,  and  to  canvass  his  facts 
and  reasonings.     To  read  passively,  to  learn,  —  is,  in  reahty, 
not  to  learn  at  all.     In  study,  imphcit  faith,  behef  upon  au- 
thority, is  worse  even  than,  for  a  time,  erroneous  speculation. 
To  read  profitably,  we  should  read  the  authors,  not  most  m 
unison  with,  but  most  adverse  to,  our  opinions ;  for  whatever 
may  be  the  case  in  the  cure  of  bodies,  enantiopathy,  and  not 
homoeopathy,   is   the   true   medicine   of   minds.      Accordingly, 
such  sciences  and  such  authors  as  present  only  unquestionable 
truths,  determining  a  minimum  of  self-activity  in  the  student, 
are,  in  a  rational  education,  subjectively  naught.   Those  sciences 
and  authors,  on  the  contrary,  who  constrain  the  student  to  inde- 
pendent thought,  are,  whatever  may  be  their  objective  cer- 
tainty, subjectively,  educationally,  best.]  —  Discussions, 

But  though  the  common  duty  of  all  academical  instructors  be 
the  cultivation  of  the  student,  through  the  awakened  exercise 
of  his  faculties,  this  is  more  especially  incumbent  on  those  to 
whom  is  intrusted  the  department  of  hberal  education ;  for,  in 
this  department,  the  pupil  is  trained,  not  to  any  mere  profes- 
sional knowledge,  but  to  the  command  and  employment  of  his 
faculties  in  general.  But,  moreover,  the  same  obligation  is 
specially  imposed  upon  a  professor  of  intellectual  philosophy, 


12 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


by  the  peculiar  nature  of  his  subject,  and  the  conditions  under 
which  alone  it  can  be  taught.     The  phoenomena  of  the  external 
world  are  so  palpable  and  so  easily  described,  that  the  expe- 
rience of  one  observer  suffices  .to  render  the  facts  he  has  wit- 
nessed inteUigible  and  probable  to  all.     The  phgenomena  of  the 
internal  world,  on  the  contrary,  are  not^capable  of  being  thus 
described:    all   that  the  prior  observer  can  do,  is  to  enable 
others  to  repeat  his  experience.     In  the  science  of  mind,  we 
can  neither  understand  nor  be  convinced  of  any  thing  at  second 
hand.     Here  testhnony  can  impose  no  beUef ;  and  instruction 
is  only  instruction  as  it  enables  us  to  teach  ourselves.     A  fact 
of  consciousness,  however  accurately  observed,  however  clearly 
described,  and  however   great   may  be  our  confidence  in  the 
observer,  is  for  us  as  zero,  until  we  have   observed  and  recog- 
nized it  ourselves.     Till  that  be  done,  we  cannot  reahze  its  pos- 
sibility, far  less  admit  its  truth.     Thus  it  is  that,  in  the  philoso- 
phy of  mind,  instruction  can  do  Httle  more  than  point  out  the 
position  in  which  the   pupil  ought  to  place  himseU",  in  order  to 
verify,  by  his  own  experience,  the  facts  which  his  instructor 
proposes  to  him  as  true.     The  instructor,  therefore,  proclaims, 
ov  qjiXoaoqia,  d)la  cptlooocpeh  ;  he  does  not  profess  to  teach  ;;A/- 
losophy,  hut  to  philosophize.     It  is  this  condition  imposed  upon 
the  student  of  doing  every  thing  himself,  that  renders  the  study 
of  the  mental  sciences  the  most  improving  exercise  of  intel- 
lect. 

Philosophy:  its  Objective  utility,  —  I  [have]  endeavored  to 
show  that  all  knowledge  is  only  for  the  sake  of  energy,  and  that 
even  merely  speculative  truth  is  valuable  only  as  it  determines 
a  greater  quantity  of  higher  power  into  activity.  I  [have]  also 
endeavored  to  show  that,  on  the  standard  of  Subjective  utility, 
philosophy  is  of  all  our  studies  the  most  useful ;  ma^much  as 
more  than  any  other  it  exercises,  and  consequently  develops  to 
a  higher  degree,  and  in  a  more  varied  manner,  our  noblest  fac- 
ulties. I  shall  [now]  confine  myself  to  certain  views  of  the 
importance  of  philosophy  estimated  by  the  standai-d  of  its  Ob- 
jective utility. 

The  human  mind  the  noblest  object  of  speculation,  —  Consid- 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


13 


ered  in  itself,  a  knowledge  of  the  human  mind,  whether  we 
regard  its  speculative  or  its  practical  importance,  is  confessedly 
of  all  studies  the  highest  and  the  most  interesting.    "  On  earth," 
says  an  ancient  i^hilosopher,  "  there  is  nothing  great  but  man  : 
in  man,  there  is  nothing  great  but  mind."     No  other  study  fills 
and  satisfies  the  soul  like  the  study  of  itself.     No  other  science 
presents  an  object  to  be  compared  in  dignity,  in  absolute  or  in 
relative  value,  to  that  which  human  consciousness  furnishes  to 
its  own  contemplation.     What  is  of  all  things  the  best,  asked 
Chilon  of  the  Oracle.     "  To  know  thyself,"  was  the  response. 
This  is,  in  fact,  the  only  science  in  which  all  are  always  inter- 
ested ;  for,  while  each  individual  may  have  his  favorite  occupa- 
tion, it  still  remains  true  of  the  species,  that  "  the  proper  study 
of  mankind   is   man."     "For   the   world,"   says    Sir   Thomas 
Browne,  "  I  count  it  not  an  inn,  but  an  hospital ;  and  a  place 
not  to  live,  but  to  die  in.     The  world  that  I  regard  is  myself; 
it  is  the  microcosm  of  my  own  frame  that  I  cast  mine  eye  on  ; 
for  the  other,  I  use  it  but  hke  my  globe,  and  turn  it  round  some- 
tunes,  for  my  recreation The  earth  is  a  point,  not  only 

in  respect  of  the  heavens  above  us,  but  of  that  heavenly  and 
celestial  part  within  us.  That  mass  of  flesh  that  circumscribes 
me,  limits  not  my  mind.     That  surface  that  tells  the  heavens  it 

hath  an  end,  cannot  persuade  me  I  have  any Whilst  I 

study  to  find  how  I  am  a  microcosm,  or  little  world,  I  find  my- 
self something  more  than  the  great.  There  is  surely  a  piece 
of  divinity  in  us ;  something  that  was  before  the  elements,  and 
owes  no  homage  unto  the  sun.  Nature  tells  me,  I  am  the 
image  of  God,  as  well  as  Scripture.  He  that  understands  not 
thus  much  hath  not  his  introduction  or  first  lesson,  and  is  yet 
to  begin  the  alphabet  of  man." 

Relation  of  Psychology  to  Theology.  — J^ni,  though  mind, 
considered  in  itself,  be  the  noblest  object  of  speculation  which 
the  created  universe  presents  to  the  curiosity  of  man,  it  is  under 
a  certain  relation  that  I  would  now  attempt  to  illustrate  its 
utility ;  for  mind  rises  to  its  highest  dignity  when  viewed  as  the 
object  through  which,  and  through  which  alone,  our  unassisted 
reason  can  ascend  to  the  knowledge  of  a  God.     The  Deity  is 

2 


14 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


not  an  object  of  immediate  contemplation  ;  as  existing  and  in 
liimselt;  he  is  beyond  our  reach ;  we  can  know  him  only  medi- 
ately through  his  works,  and  are  only  warranted  in  assuming 
his  existence  as  a  certain  kind  of  cause  necessary  to  account 
for  a  certain  state  of  things,  of  whose  reality  our  faculties  are 
supposed  to  inform  us.  The  affirmation  of  a  God  being  thus  a 
regressive  inference,  from  the  existence  of  a  special  class  of 
eifects  to  the  existence  of  a  special  character  of  cause,  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  the  whole  argument  hinges  on  the  tact,  —  Does  a 
state  of  things  really  exist  such  as  is  only  i)ossible  through  the 
agency  of  a  Divine  Cause  ?  For  if  it  can  be  shown  that  such 
a  state  of  things  does  not  really  exist,  then  our  inference  to  the 
kind  of  cause  requisite  to  account  for  it  is  necessarily  null. 

Argument  founded  exclusively  on  the  phcEuomena  of  mind.  — 
Tliis  being  understood,  I  now  "proceed  to  show  that  the  class  of 
phienomena  which  requires  that  kind  of  cause  we  denominate  a 
Deity,  is  exclusively  given  in  the  pha^iomena  of  mind,  —  that 
the  phjEnomena  of  matter,  taken  by  themselves  (you  will  observe 
the  qualification,  '  taken  by  themselves'),  so  far  from  warranting 
any  inference  to  the  existence  of  a  God,  would,  on  the  contrary, 
ground  even  an  argument  to  his  negation,  —  that  the  study  of 
the  external  world  taken  with,  and  in  subordination  to,  that 
of  the  internal,  not  only  loses  its  atheistic  tendency,  but,  under 
such  subservience,  may  be  rendered  conducive  to  the  great  con- 
clusion, from  which,  if  left  to  itself,  it  would  dissuade  us. 

We  must,  first  of  all,  then,  consider  what  kind  of  cause  it  is 
which  constitutes  a  Deity,  and  what  kind  of  effects  they  are 
which  allow  us  to  infer  that  a  Deity  must  be. 

The  notion  of  a  God — what.  —  The  notion  of  a  God  is  not 
contained  in  the  notion  of  a  mere  First  Cause ;  for  in  the 
admission  of  a  first  cause.  Atheist  and  Theist  are  at  one. 
Neither  is  this  notion  completed  by  adding  to  a  first  cause  the 
attribute  of  Omnipotence ;  for  the  atheist  who  holds  matter  or 
necessity  to  be  the  original  i)rinciple  of  all  that  is,  does  not 
convert  his  blind  force  into  a  God,  by  merely  affirming  it  to  be 
all-powerful.  It  is  not  until  the  two  great  attributes  of  Intelli- 
gence and  Virtue  (and  be  it  observed  that  virtue  involves  Lib- 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


15 


erty)  —  I  say,  it  is  not  until  the  two  attributes  of  intelligence 
and  virtue  or  holiness  are  brought  in,  that  the  belief  in  a  pri- 
mary and  omnipotent  cause  becomes  the  belief  in  a  veritable 
Divinity.  But  these  latter  attributes  are  not  more  essential  to 
the  divine  nature  than  are  the  former.  For  as  original  and 
infinite  power  does  not  of  itself  constitute  a  God,  neither  is  a 
God  constituted  by  intelligence  and  virtue,  unless  intelligence 
and  goodness  be  themselves  conjoined  with  this  original  and 
infinite  power.  For  even  a  Creator,  intelligent,  and  good,  and 
powerful,  would  be  no  God,  were  he  dependent  for  his  intelli- 
gence and  goodness  and  power  on  any  higher  principle.  On 
this  supposition,  the  perfections  of  the  Creator  are  viewed  as 
limited  and  derived.  He  is  himself,  therefore,  only  a  depen- 
dency, —  only  a  creature  ;  and  if  a  God  there  be,  he  must  be 
sought  for  in  that  higher  principle,  from  which  this  subordinate 
principle  derives  its  attributes.  Now  is  this  highest  principle 
{ex  hypothesi  all-powerful)  also  intelligent  and  moral,  then  it  is 
itself  alone  the  veritable  Deity ;  on  the  other  hand  is  it,  though 
the  author  of  intelligence  and  goodness  in  another,  itself  unin- 
telligent, —  then  is  a  blind  Fate  constituted  the  first  and  uni- 
versal cause,  and  atheism  is  asserted. 

Conditions  of  the  proof  of  the  existence  of  a  God.  —  The 
peculiar  attributes  which  distinguish  a  Deity  from  the  original 
omnipotence  or  blind  fate  of  the  atheist,  being  thus  those  of 
intelligence  and  holiness  of  will,  —  and  the  assertion  of  theism 
being  only  the  assertion  that  the  universe  is  created  by  intelli- 
gence, and  governed  not  only  by  physical  but  by  moral  laws, 
we  have  next  to  consider  how  we  are  warranted  in  these  two 
affirmations;  1°,  That  intelligence  stands  first  in  the  absolute 
order  of  existence,  —  in  other  words,  that  final  preceded 
efficient  causes  ;  and,  2°,  That  the  universe  is  governed  by 
moral  laws. 

The  proof  of  these  two  propositions  is  the  jiroof  of  a  God ; 
and  it  establishes  its  foundation  exclusively  on  the  phienomena 
of  mind.  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you  this,  in  regard  to  both 
these  propositions  ;  but,  before  considering  how  far  the  phae- 
nomena  of  mind  and  of  matter  do  and  do  not  allow  us  to  infer 


16 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  one  position  or  the  other,  I  must  solicit  your  attention  to 
the  characteristic  contrasts  which  these  two  classes  of  phae- 
nomena  in  themselves  exhibit. 

Contrasts  of  the  phcenornena  of  matter  and  mind.  —  In  the 
compass  of  our  experience,  we  distinguish  two  series  of  facts,  — 
the  facts  of  tlie  external  or  material  world,  and  the  facts  of  the 
internal  world  or  world  of  intelligence.  These  concomitant 
series  of  pha»nomena  are  not  like  streams  which  merely  nm 
parallel  to  each  other ;  they  do  not,  like  the  Alpheus  antl  Are- 
thusa,  flow  on  side  by  side  without  a  commingling  of  their 
waters.  They  cross,  they  combine,  they  are  interlaced ;  but 
notwithstanding  their  intimate  connection,  their  mutual  action 
and  reaction,  we  are  able  to  discriminate  them  without  diffi- 
culty, because  they  are  marked  out  by  characteristic  dif- 
ferences. 

The  phienomena  of  the  material  world  are  subjected  to  im- 
mutable laws,  are  produced  and  reprotluced  in  the  same  inva- 
riable succession,  and  manifest  only  the  blind  force  of  a 
mechanical  necessity. 

The  phaenomena  of  man  are,  in  part,  subjected  to  the  laws 
of  the  external  universe.  As  dependent  upon  a  bodily  organi- 
zation, as  actuated  by  sensual  propensities  and  animal  wants,  he 
belongs  to  matter,  and,  in  this  respect,  he  is  the  slave  of  neces- 
sity. But  what  man  holds  of  matter  does  not  make  up  his 
personality.  They  are  his,  not  he  ;  man  is  not  an  organism,  — 
he  is  an  intelligence  served  by  organs.  For  in  man  there  are 
tendencies,  —  there  is  a  law,  —  which  continually  urge  him  to 
prove  that  he  is  more  powerful  than  the  nature  by  wliich  he  is 
suiTOunded  and  ])enetrated.  lie  is  conscious  to  himself  of  fac- 
ulties not  comprised  in  the  chain  of  physical  necessity ;  his  intel- 
ligence reveals  prescriptive  principles  of  action,  absolute  and 
universal,  in  the  Law  of  Duty,  and  a  liberty  capable  of  carrying 
that  law  into  effect,  in  opposition  to  the  solicitations,  the  im- 
pulsions, of  his  material  nature.  From  the  coexistence  of  these 
opposing  forces  in  man,  there  results  a  ceaseless  struggle 
between  physical  necessity  and  moral  liberty,  —  in  the  language 
of  Revelation,  between   the   Flesh   and   the  Spirit ;   and  this 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


17 


Struggle  constitutes  at  once  the  distinctive  character  of  human- 
ity, and  the  essential  condition  of  human  development  and 
virtue. 

In  the  facts  of  intelligence,  we  thus  become  aware  of  an 
order  of  existence  diametrically  in  contrast  to  that  displayed  to 
us  in  the  facts  of  the  material  universe.  There  is  made  known 
to  us  an  order  of  things,  in  which  intelligence,  by  recognizijig 
the  unconditional  law  of  duty  and  an  absolute  obligation  to  fiJitil 
it,  recognizes  its  own  possession  of  a  liberty  incompatible  with 
a  dependence  upon  fate,  and  of  a  power  capa]3le  of  resisting 
and  conquering  the  counteraction  of  our  animal  nature. 

Consciousness  of  freedom,  and  of  a  law  of  duty,  the  condi- 
tions of  Theology.  —  Now,  it  is  only  as  man  is  a  free  intelli- 
gence, a  moral  power,  that  he  is  created  after  the  image  of 
God,  and  it  is  only  as  a  spark  of  divinity  glows  as  the,  life  of 
our  life  in  us,  that  we  can  rationally  believe  in  an  Intelligent 
Creator  and  Moral  Governor  of  the  universe.  For,  let  us  sup- 
pose, that  in  man  intelligence  is  the  product  of  organization, 
that  our  consciousness  of  moral  liberty  is  itself  only  an  illu- 
sion ;  m  short,  that  acts  of  volition  are  results  of  the  same  iron 

necessity  which  determines   the   phenomena  of  matter ; on 

this  supposition,  I  say,  the  foundations  of  all  religion,  natural 
and  revealed,  are  subverted. 

The  truth  of  this  will  be  best  seen  by  appl;^ang  the  supposi- 
tion of  the  two  positions  of  theism  previously  stated  —  namely, 
that  the  notion  of  God  necessarily  supposes,  1°,  That  in  the 
absolute  order  of  existence,  intelligence  should  be  first,  that  is, 
not  itself  the  product  of  an  unintelligent  antecedent ;  and,  2°, 
That  the  universe  should  be  governed  not  only  by  physical,  but 
by  moral  laws. 

Analogy  between  our  experience  and  the  absolute  order  of 
existence.  —  Now,  in  regard  to  the  former,  how  can  we  attempt 
to  prove  that  the  universe  is  the  creation  of  a  free  origmal 
intelligence,  against  the  counter-position  of  the  atheist,  that  lib- 
erty is  an  illusion,  and  intelligence,  or  the  adaptation  of  means 
to  ends,  only  the  product  of  a  bhnd  fate  ?  As  we  know  noth- 
ing of  the  absolute  order  of  existence  in  itself,  we  can  only 

2* 


la 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  THILOSOPHY. 


attempt  to  infer  its  character  from  that  of  the  particular  order 
within  the  sphere  of  our  experience ;  and  as  we  can  affii-m 
naught  of  intelligence  and  its  conditions,  except  what  we  may- 
discover  from  the  obser\'ation  of  our  own  minds,  it  is  evident 
that  we  can  only  analogically  carry  out  into  the  order  of  the 
universe  the  relation  in  v/hich  we  find  intelligence  to  stand  in 
the  order  of  the  human  constitution.  If  in  man  intelligence  be 
a  free  power,  —  in  so  far  as  its  liberty  extends,  intelligence 
must  be  independent  of  necessity  and  matter ;  and  a  power 
independent  of  matter  necessarily  implies  the  existence  of  an 
immaterial  subject,  —  that  is,  a  spirit.  If,  then,  the  original 
independence  of  intelligence  on  matter  in  the  human  constitu- 
tion, in  other  words,  if  the  spirituaUty  of  mind  in  man,  be  sup- 
posed a  datum  of  observation,  in  this  datum  is  also  given  both 
the  condition  and  the  proof  of  a  God.  For  we  have  only  to 
infer,  what  analogy  entitles  us  to  do,  that  intelligence  holds  the 
same  relative  supremacy  in  the  universe  which  it  holds  in  us, 
and  tlie  first  positive  condition  of  a  Deity  is  established,  in  the 
establishment  of  the  absolute  priority  of  a  free  creative  intelH- 
gence.  On  the  other  hand,  let  us  suppose  the  result  of  our 
study  of  man  to  be,  that  intelligence  is  only  a  product  of  mat- 
ter, only  a  reflex  of  organization,  such  a  doctrine  would  not 
only  afford  no  basis  on  which  to  rest  any  argument  for  a  God, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  would  positively  warrant  the  atheist  in 
denying  his  existence.  For  if,  as  the  materialist  maintains,  the 
only  intelligence  of  which  we  have  any  experience  be  a  conse- 
quent of  matter,  —  on  this  hypothesis,  he  not  only  cannot 
assume  this  order  to  be  reversed  in  the  relations  of  an  intelli- 
gence beyond  his  observation,  but,  if  he  argue  logically,  he 
must  positively  conclude,  that,  as  in  mtm,  so  in  the  universe, 
the  pha^nomena  of  intelligence  or  design  are  only  in  their  last 
analysis  the  products  of  a  brute  necessity.  Psychological  ma- 
terialism, if  carried  out  fully  and  fairly  to  its  conclusions,  thus 
inevitably  results  in  theological  atheism ;  as  it  has  been  well 
expressed  by  Dr.  Henry  More,  nuUus  in  microcosmo  spin'tus, 
nullus  in  macrocosmo  Dens.  I  do  not,  of  course,  mean  to  assert 
that  all  materialists  deny,  or  actually  disbelieve,  a  God.     For, 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY   OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


19 


in  very  many  cases,  this  would  be  at  once  an  unmerited  compli- 
ment to  their  reasoning,  and  an  unmerited  reproach  to  their 
faith. 

Second  condition  of  the  proof  of  a  Deity.  —  Such  is  the  man- 
ifest dependence  of  our  theology  on  our  psychology  in  refer- 
ence to  the  first  condition  of  a  Deity,  —  the  absolute  priority 
of  a  free  intelligence.  But  this  is  perhaps  even  more  con- 
spicuous in  relation  to  the  second,  that  the  universe  is  gov- 
erned not  merely  by  physical  but  by  moral  laws ;  for  God  is 
only  God  inasnuich  as  he  is  the  Moral  Governor  of  a  Moral 
World. 

Our  interest,  also,  in  its  establishment  is  incomparably  greater ; 
for  while  a  proof  that  the  universe  is  the  work  of  an  omnipotent 
intelligence,  gratifies  only  our  speculative  curiosity,  —  a  proof 
that  there  is  a  holy  legislator,  by  whom  goodness  and  felicity 
will  be  ultimately  brought  into  accordance,  is  necessary  to  satisfy 
both  our  intellect  and  our  heart.  A  God  is,  indeed,  to  us,  only 
of  practical  interest,  inasmuch  as  he  is  the  condition  of  our 
iramortaUty. 

Now,  it  is  self-evident,  in  the  first  place,  that,  if  there  be  no 
moral  world,  there  can  be  no  moral  governor  of  such  a  world ; 
and,  in  the  second,  that  we  have,  and  can  have,  no  ground  on 
which  to  believe  in  the  reality  of  a  moral  world,  except  in  so 
far  as  we  ourselves  are  moral  agents.  This  being  undeniable, 
it  is  further  evident,  that,  should  we  ever  be  convinced  that  we 
are  not  moral  agents,  we  should  likewise  be  convinced  that  there 
exists  no  moral  order  in  the  universe,  and  no  supreme  intelli- 
gence by  which  that  moral  order  is  established,  sustained,  and 
regulated. 

Theology  is  thus  again  wholly  dependent  on  Psychology; 
for,  with  the  proof  of  the  moral  nature  of  man,  stands  or  falls 
the  proof  of  the  existence  of  a  Deity.* 


*  [It  is  chiefly,  if  not  solely,  to  explain  the  one  phenomenon  of  morality, 
—  of  freewill,  that  we  are  warranted  in  assuming  a  second  and  hyperphysi- 
cal  substance,  in  an  immaterial  principle  of  thought ;  for  it  is  only  on  the 
supposition  of  a  moral  liberty  in  man,  that  we  can  attempt  to  vindicate,  as 
truths,  a  moral  order,  and,  consequently,  a  moral  governor  in  the  universe ; 


20 


UTILITY   OF  THE  STUDY   OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


Wherehi  the  moral  ageiicy  of  man  consists.  —  But  in  what 
does  the  character  of  man  as  a  moral  agent  consist  ?  Man  is  a 
moral  agent  only  as  he  is  accountable  for  his  actions,  —  in  other 
words,  as  he  is  the  object  of  praise  or  blame ;  and  this  he  is, 
only  inasnuK'h  as  he  has  prescribed  to  him  a  rule  of  duty,  and 
as  he  is  able  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  in  conformity  with  its  precepts. 
The  possibility  of  morality  thus  depends  on  the  possibility  of 
liberty ;  for,  if  man  be  not  a  free  agent,  he  is  not  the  author 
of  his  actions,  and  has,  therefore,  no  responsibility,  —  no  moral 
personahty  at  all. 

How  philosophy  establishes  human  liberty,  —  Now  the  study 
of  Philosophy,  or  mental  science,  operates  in  three  ways  to 
establish  that  assurance  of  human  liberty,  which  is  necessary 
for  a  rational  belief  in  our  own  moral  nature,  in  a  moral  world, 
and  in  a  moral  ruler  of  that  world.  In  the  first  place,  an  atten- 
tive consideration  of  the  phienomena  of  mind  is  requisite  in  order 
to  a  luminous  and  distinct  apprehension  of  hberty  as  a  fact  or 
datum  of  intelligence.  For  though,  without  philosophy,  a  natu- 
ral conviction  of  free  a^encv  lives  and  works  in  the  recesses  of 
every  human  mind,  it  requires  a  process  of  philosophical  thought 
to  brinsT  this  conviction  to  clear  consciousness  and  scientific  cer- 
tainty.     In  the  second  place,  a  profound  philosophy  is  necessary 


and  it  is  only  on  the  hypothesis  of  a  soul  within  us,  that  we  can  assert  the 
reality  of  a  God  above  us. 

In  the  hands  of  the  materialist,  or  physical  necessitarian,  every  argument 
for  the  existence  of  a  Deity  is  eitlicr  annulled  or  reversed  into  a  demonsti-a- 
tiou  of  atheism.  In  his  hands,  with  the  moral  worth  of  man,  the  inference 
to  a  moral  ruler  of  a  moral  universe  is  gone.  In  his  hands,  the  argument 
from  the  adaptations  of  end  and  mean,  everywhere  apparent  in  existence,  to 
the  primar)^  causality  of  intelligence  and  liberty,  if  applied,  establishes,  in 
fact,  the  primary  causality  of  necessity  and  matter.  For,  as  this  argument 
is  only  an  extension  to  the  universe  of  the  analojry  obser\'ed  in  man  ;  if  in 
man,  desi^^n,  intelligence,  be  only  a  i)henomenon  of  matter,  only  a  retlex  of 
orjranization ;  this  consecution  of  lirst  and  second  in  us,  extended  to  the 
universal  order  of  things,  reverses  the  absolute  priority  of  intelligence  to 
matter;  that  is,  subverts  the  fundamental  condition  of  a  Deity.  Thus  it  is, 
that  our  theology  is  necessarily  founded  on  our  psychology ;  that  we  must 
recognize  a  God  in  our  own  minds,  before  we  can  detect  a  God  in  the  universe 
of  nature.]  — Discussions. 


UTILITY'  OF  THE  STUDY'  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


21 


to  obviate  the  difficulties  which  meet  us  when  we  attempt  to 
explain  the  possibility  of  this  fact,  and  to  prove  that  the  datum 
of  liberty  is  not  a  mere  iUusion.     For  though  an  unconquerable 
feehng  compels  us  to  recognize  ourselves  as  a<;countable,  and 
therefore  free,  agents,  still,  when   we   attempt   to   realize   in 
thought  how  the  fact  of  our  liberty  can  be,  we  soon  find  that 
this  altogether  transcends  our  understanding,  and  that  every 
effort  to  bring  the  fact  of  liberty  within  the  compass  of  our  con- 
ceptions, only  results  in  the  substitution  in  its  place  of  some 
more  or  less  disguised  form  of  necessity.     For,  —  if  I  may  be 
allowed  to  use  expressions  which  many  of  you  cannot  be  sup- 
posed at  present  to  understand,  —  we  are  only  able  to  conceive 
a  thmg,  inasmuch  as  we  conceive  it  under  conditions;  while 
the  possibility  of  a  free  act  supposes  it  to  be  an  act  which  is  not 
conditioned  or  determined.     The  tendency  of  a  superficial  phi- 
losophy IS,  tlierefore,  to  deny  the  fact  of  liberty,  on  the  principle 
that  what  cannot  be  conceived  is  impossible.     A  deeper  and 
more  compreliensive  study  of  the  facts  of  mind  overturns  this 
conclusion,  and  disprove^  its  foundation.     It  shows  tha^— so 
far  from  the  principle  being  true,  that  what  is  inconceivable  is 
nnpossible,  — on  the  contrary,  all  that  is  conceivable  is  a  mean 
between  two  contradictory  extremes,  both  of  which  are  incon- 
ceivable, but  of  which,  as  mutually  repugnant,  one  or  the  other 
must  be  true.     Thus   philosophy,   in   demonstrating   that   the 
hmits  of  thought  are  not  to  be  assumed  as  the  limits  of  possibil- 
ity, while  it  admits   the  weakness  of  our  discursive  intellect 
reestablishes  the  authority  of  consciousness,  and  vindicates  the' 
veracity  of  our  primitive  convictions.     It  proves  to  us,  from  the 
very  laws  of  mind,  that  while  we  can  never  understand  how  any 
onginal  datum  of  intelligence  is  possible,  we  have  no  reason 
from  this  inability  to  doubt  that  it  is  true.     A  learned  ignorance 
IS  thus  the  end  of  philosophy,  as  it  is  the  beginning  of  tlieology. 
In  the  third  i)lace,  the  study  of  mind  is  necessary  to  counter- 
balance and  correct  the  influence  of  the  study  of  matter ;  and 
this  utility  of  metaphysics  rises  in  proportion  to  the  progress 
of  the  natural  sciences,  and  to  the  greater  attention  which °they 


engross. 


22 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


Twofold  evil  of  exclusive  physical  study.  —  An  exclusive  de- 
votion to  physical  pursuits  exerts  an  evil  influence  in  two  ways. 
In  the  first  place,  it  diverts  from  all  notice  of  the  pha?nomena  of 
moral  liberty,  which  are  revealed  to  us  in  the  recesses  of  the 
human  mind  alone ;  and  it  disqualifies  from  appreciating  the 
import  of  these  pha^nomena,  even  if  presented,  by  leaving  un- 
cultivated the  finer  power  of  psychological  reflection,  in  the 
exclusive  exercise  of  the  faculties  employed  in  the  easier  and 
more  arauBinjx  observation  of  the  external  world.  In  the  second 
place,  by  exhibiting  merely  the  pha^nomena  of  matter  and  exten- 
sion, it  habituates  us  only  to  the  contemplation  of  an  order  in 
which  every  thing  is  determined  by  the  laws  of  a  blind  or  me- 
chanical necessity.  Now,  what  is  the  inevitable  tendency  of 
this  one-sided  and  exclusive  study  ?  That  the  student  becomes 
a  materialist,  if  he  speculate  at  all.  For,  in  the  first  place,  he 
is  familiar  with  the  obtrusive  facts  of  necessity,  and  is  unaccus- 
tomed to  develop  into  consciousness  the  more  recondite  facts  of 
liberty ;  he  is,  therefore,  disposed  to  disbelieve  in  the  existence 
of  ph|^nomena  whose  reality  he  may  deny,  and  whose  possibility 
he  cannot  understand.  At  the  same  time,  the  love  of  unity,  and 
the  pliilosophical  presumption  against  the  multiplication  of  es- 
sences, deteraiine  him  to  reject  the  assumption  of  a  second,  and 
that  an  hypothetical,  substance,  —  ignorant  as  he  is  of  the  rea- 
sons by  wliich  that  assumption  is  legitimated. 

In  the  infancy  of  science,  this  tendency  of  physical  study  was 
not  experienced.  "V^Tien  men  first  turned  their  attention  on  the 
phienomena  of  nature,  every  event  was  viewed  as  a  miracle,  for 
every  effect  was  considered  as  the  operation  of  an  intelligence. 
Go<l  waj<  not  exiled  from  the  universe  of  matter ;  on  the  con- 
trai-y,  he  was  multiplied  in  proportion  to  its  pha?nomena.  As 
science  advanced,  the  deities  were  gradually  driven  out;  and 
long  after  the  sublunary  world  had  been  disenchanted,  they 
were  left  for  a  season  in  possession  of  tlie  starry  heavens.  The 
movement  of  the  celestial  bodies,  in  which  Kepler  still  saw  the 
agen(.*y  of  a  free  intelligence,  was  at  length  by  Newton  resolved 
into  a  few  mathematical  principles  ;  and  at  last,  even  the  irregu- 
larities which  Newton  was  compelled  to  leave  for  the  miraculous 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


23 


correction  of  the  Deity,  have  been  proved  to  require  no  super- 
natural interposition ;  for  La  Place  has  shown  that  all  contin- 
gencies, past  and  future,  in  the  heavens,  find  their  explanation 
in  the  one  fundamental  law  of  gravitation. 

But  the  very  contemplation  of  an  order  and  adaptation  so 
astonishmg,  joined  to  the  knowledge  that  this  order  and  adapta- 
tion are  the  necessary  results  of  a  brute  mechanism,  —  when 
acting  upon  minds  which  have  not  looked  into  themselves  for 
the  light  of  which  the  world  without  can  only  afford  them  the 
reflection,  —  far  from  elevating  them  more  than  any  other  aspect 
of  external  creation  to  that  inscrutable  Being  who  reigns  beyond 
and  above  the  universe  of  nature,  tends,  on  the  contrary,  to  im- 
press on  them,  with  pecuhar  force,  the  conviction,  that  as  the 
mechanism  of  nature  can  explain  so  much,  the  mechanism  of 
nature  can  explain  all. 

If  all  existence  be  but  mechanism,  philosophical  interest  extin- 
guished,—''y^on^^v;'   says  Aristotle,  "is   the  first  cause  of 
philosophy;"    but  in   the  discovery  that  all  existence  is  but 
mechanism,  the  consummation  of  science  would  be  an  extinction 
of  the  very  interest  from  which  it  originally  sprang.     "  Even 
the  gorgeous  majesty  of  the  heavens,"  says  a  rehgious  philoso- 
pher, "  the  object  of  a  kneeling  adoration  to  an  infant  world, 
subdues  no  more  the  mind  of  him  who  comprehends  the  one 
mechanical  law  by  which  the  planetary  systems  move,  maintain 
then-  motion,  and  even   originally  fomi   themselves.     He   no 
longer  wonders  at  the  object,  infinite  as  it  always  is,  but  at  the 
human  intellect  alone,  which,  m  a  Copernicus,  Kepler,  Gassendi, 
Newton,  and  La  Place,  was  able  to  transcend  the  object,  by 
science  to  terminate  the  miracle,  to  reave  the  heaven  of  its  di- 
vinities, and  to  exorcise  the  universe.     But  even  this,  the  only 
admiration  of  which  our  inteUigent  faculties  are  now  capable, 
would  vanish,  were  a  future  Hartley,   Darwin,   Condillac,  or 
Bonnet,  to  succeed  in  displaying  to  us  a  mechanical  system  of 
the  human  mind,  as  comprehensive,  inteUigible,  aiid  satisfactory 
as  the  Newtonian  mechanism  of  the  heavens." 

To  this  testimony  I  may  add,  that,  should  Physiology  ever 
succeed  in  reducmg  the  facts  of  inteUigence  to  phjenomena  of 


24 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


matter,  Philosophy  would  be  subverted  in  the  subversion  of  its 
three  great  objects,  —  God,  Free- Will,  and  Immortality.  True 
wisdom  would  then  consist,  not  in  speculation,  but  in  repressing 
thought  during  our  brief  transit  from  nothingness  to  nothingness. 
For  why?  Philosophy  would  have  become  a  meditation,  not 
merely  of  death,  but  of  anniliilation ;  the  precept,  Know  thy- 
self, would  have  been  replaced  by  the  terrific  oracle  to  Oedipus — 

*'  Mav'st  thou  ne'er  know  the  tmth  of  what  tliou  ait :  " 

and  the  final  recompense  of  our  scientific  curiosity  would  be 
wailing,  deeper  than  Cassandra's,  for  the  ignorance  that  saved 
us  from  despair. 

Coincidence  of  these  views  with  those  of  previous  philoso- 
phers. —  The  views  which  I  have  now  taken  of  the  respective 
influence  of  the  sciences  of  mind  and  of  matter  in  relation  to 
our  religious  behef,  are  those  which  have  been  deliberately 
adopted  by  the  profoundest  thinkers,  ancient  and  modem. 
Were  I  to  quote  to  you  the  testimonies  that  crowd  on  my  recol- 
lection, to  tlie  effect  that  ignorance  of  Self  is  ignorance  of  God, 
I  should  make  no  end,  for  this  is  a  truth  proclaimed  by  Jew 
and  Gentile,  Christian  and  Mohammedan.  "  The  cause,"  says 
Plato,  "  of  all  impiety  and  irreligion  among  men  is,  that,  revers- 
ing in  themselves  the  relative  subordination  of  mind  and  body, 
they  have,  in  like  manner,  in  the  universe,  made  that  to  be  first 
which  is  second,  and  that  to  be  second  which  is  first ;  for  while, 
in  the  generation  of  all  things,  intelligence  and  final  causes  pre- 
cede matter  and  efficient  causes,  they,  on  the  contrary,  have 
viewed  matter  and  material  things  as  absolutely  prior,  in  the 
order  of  existence,  to  intelligence  and  design  ;  and  thus,  depart- 
ing from  an  original  error  in  relation  to  themselves,  they  have 
ended  in  the  subversion  of  the  Godhead." 

The  pious  and  profound  Jacobi  states  the  truth  boldly  and 
without  disguise  in  regard  to  the  relation  of  Physics  and  Meta- 
physics to  Religion.  "  But  is  it  unreasonable  to  confess,  that 
we  believe  in  God,  not  by  reason  of  the  nature  *  which  con- 

*  In  the  philosophy  of  Germany,  Natur  and  its  correlatives,  whether 
of  Greek  or  Latin  derivation,  are,  in  general,  expressive  of  the  world  of 
Matter,  in  contrast  to  the  world  of  Intelligence. 


UTILITY  OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


25 


ceals  him,  but  by  reason  of  the  supernatural  in  man,  which 
alone  reveals  and  proves  him  to  exist  ? 

"  Nature  conceals  God :  for  through  her  whole  domain, 
Nature  reveals  only  fate,  only  an  indissoluble  chain  of  mere 
efficient  causes  without  beginning  and  without  end,  excluding, 
with  equal  necessity,  both  providence  and  chance.  An  inde- 
pendent agency,  a  free  original  commencement  within  her 
sphere  and  proceeding  from  her  powers,  is  absolutely  impossi- 
ble. Working  without  will,  she  takes  counsel  neither  of  the 
good  nor  of  the  beautiful ;  creating  nothing,  she  casts  up  from 
her  dark  abyss  only  eternal  transformations  of  herself,  uncon- 
sciously and  without  an  end ;  furthering,  with  the  same  cease- 
less industry,  decline  and  increase,  death  and  life,  —  never  pro- 
ducing what  alone  is  of  God  and  what  supposes  liberty, —  the 
virtuous,  the  immortal. 

*'  Man  reveals  God :  for  man,  by  his  intelligence,  rises  above 
nature,  and,  in  virtue  of  this  intelligence,  is  conscious  of  Wmself 
as  a  power  not  only  independent  of,  but  opposed  to,  nature,  and 
capable  of  resisting,  conquering,  and  controUmg  her.  As  man 
has  a  living  faith  in  this  power,  superior  to  nature,  which  dwells 
in  him ;  so  has  he  a  belief  in  God,  a  feeling,  an  experience  of 
his  existence.  As  he  does  not  believe  in  this  power,  so  does  he 
not  believe  in  God ;  he  sees,  he  experiences  naught  in  exist- 
ence but  nature,  —  necessity,  —  fate." 

These  uses  of  Psychology  not  superseded  by  the  Christian 
revelation.  —  Such  is  the  com2:)ai'ative  importance  of  the  sci- 
ences of  mind  and  of  matter  in  relation  to  the  interests  of 
religion.  But  it  may  be  said,  how  great  soever  be  the  value  of 
philosophy  in  this  respect,  were  man  left  to  rise  to  the  divinity 
by  the  unaided  exercise  of  his  faculties,  this  value  is  superseded 
under  the  Christian  dispensation,  the  Gos])el  now  assuring  us 
of  all  and  more  than  all  philosoj^hy  could  ever  warrant  us  in 
surmising.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  in  Revelation  there  is  con- 
tained a  great  complement  of  truths  of  which  natural  reason 
could  afford  us  no  knowledge  or  assurance  ;  but  still  the  impor- 
tance of  mental  science  to  theology  has  not  become  superfluous 
in   Christianity ;  for  whereas,  anterior  to   Revelation,  religion 

3 


26 


UTILITY   OF  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


nses  out  of  psychology  as  a  result,  subsequently  to  revelation, 
it  supposes  a  genuine  philosophy  of  mind  as  the  condition  of 
Its  truth.     This  is  at  once  manifest.     Revelation  is  a  revelation 
to  man   and   concerning  man  ;  and  man  is  only  the  object  of 
revelation,  inasmuch  as  he  is  a  moral,  a  free,  a  responsible 
being.     The    Scriptures  are    replete  with    testimonies    to  our 
natural    liberty;    and   it  m  the    doctrine    of  every   Christian 
church,  that  man  was  originally  created  with  a  will  capable 
equally  of  good  as  of  evil,  though  this  will,  subsequently  to  the 
fall,  has  lost  much  of  its  primitive  liberty.     Christianity  thus, 
by   universal    confession,    supposes   as  a  condition   the   moral 
nature  of   its  object;    and  if  some  individual  theologians  be 
found  who  ha\  c  denied  to  man  a  higher  liberty  than  a  machine, 
this  is  only  another  exami)le   of  the   truth,  that    there  is  no 
opinion  which  has  been  unable  to  find  not  only  its  champions 
but  its  martyrs.     The  differences  which  divide  the  Christian 
churches   on   this  question,  regard  only  the  liberty  of  man  in 
certain  particular  relations ;  for  fatalism,  or  a  negation  of  human 
responsibility  in  general,  is  equally  hostile  to  the  tenets  of  the 
Calvinist  and  Arminian. 

In  these  circumstances,  it  is  evident,  that  he  who  disbelieves 
the  moral  agency  of  man  must,  m  consistency  with  that  opinion, 
disbelieve  Christianity.  And  therefore,  inasmuch  as  Pliiloso- 
phy,  — the  Philosophy  of  Mind,  —  scientifically  establishes  the 
proof  of  human  liberty,  pliilosophy,  in  this,  as  in  many  other 
relations  not  now  to  be  considered,  is  the  true  preparative  and 
best  aid  of  an  enhghtened  Christian  Theology. 


I 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE   NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

You  are  about  to  commence  a  course  of  philosophical  disci- 
pline ;  —  for  Psychology  is  preemmcntly  a  philosophical  science. 
It  is  therefore  proper  that  you  should  obtain  at  least  a  notion 
of  what  philosophy  is.     But  in  affording  you  this  information, 
it  is  evident  that  there  lie  considerable  difficulties  in  the  Weay. 
For  the  definition  and  the  divisions  of  philosophy  arc  the  results 
of  a  lofty  generalization  from  particulars,  of  which  particulars 
you  are,  or  must  be  presumed  to  be,  still  ignorant.    You  cannot, 
therefore,  it  is  manifest,  be  made  adequately  to  comprehend,  in 
the  commencement  of  your  philosophical  studies,  notions  which 
these  studies  themselves  are  intended  to  enable  you  to  under- 
stand.    But  although  you  cannot  at  once  obtain  a  full  knowledge 
of  the  nature  of  philosophy,  it  is  desirable  that  you  should  be 
enabled  to  form  at  least  some  vague  conception  of  the  road  you 
are  about  to  travel,  and  of  the  point  to  which  it  w^ill  conduct 
you.     I  must,  therefore,  bog  that  you  will,  for   the   present, 
hypothetically  believe,  —  believe  upon   authority,  —  what  you 
may  not  now  adequately  understand ;  but  this  only  to  the  end 
that  you  may  not  hereafter  be  under  the  necessity  of  taking  any 
conchision  upon  trust.     Nor  is  this  temporary  exaction  of  credit 
peculiar  to  philosophical  education.     In  the  order   of  nature, 
belief  always  precedes  knowledge,  —  it  is  the  condition  of  in- 
struction.    The  child  (as  observed  by  Aristotle)  must  believe, 
in  order  that  he  may  learn  ;  and  even  the  primary  facts  of  intel- 
ligence, —  the  facts  which  precede,  as  they  afford  the  conditions 
of,  all  knowledge,  —  would  not  be  original,  were  they  revealed 
to  us  under  any  other  form  than  that  of  natural  or  necessary 
beliefs. 

(27) 


TV 

K'. 


28    NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


29 


There  are  two  questions  to  be  answered:  —  1st,  What  is  the 
meaning  of  the  name  ?  and  2d,  What  is  the  meaning  of  the 
thitig  ?  An  answer  to  the  former  question  is  afforded  in  a  nomi- 
nal definition  of  the  term  pJiilosophy,  and  in  a  history  of  its  em- 
ployment and  application. 

Philosophy  —  the  name.  —  In  regard  to  the  etymological  sig- 
nification of  the  word.  Philosophy  is  a  term  of  Greek  origin. 
It  is  a  compound  of  (filog,  a  lover  or  friend,  and  60(fm,*  wisdom 
—  speculative  wisdom.  Philosophy  is  thus,  literally,  a  love  of 
wisdom.  But  if  the  grammatical  meaning  of  the  word  be  un- 
ambiguous, the  history  of  its  application  is,  I  think,  involved  in 
considerable  doubt.  According  to  the  commonly  received  ac- 
count, the  designation  of  philosopher  (lover  or  suitor  of  wisdom) 
was  first  assumed  and  applied  by  Pythagoras ;  whilst  of  the 
occasion  and  circumstances  of  its  assumption,  we  have  a  story 
by  Cicero,  on  the  authority  of  Herachdcs  Ponticus.  Pythagoras, 
once  upon  a  time,  says  the  Roman  orator,  having  come  to  Phlius, 
a  city  of  Peloponnesus,  displayed,  in  a  conversation  which  he 
liad  with  Leon,  w^ho  then  governed  that  city,  a  range  of  knowl- 
edge so  extensive,  that  the  prince,  admiring  his  eloquence  and 
ability,  inquired  to  what  art  lie  had  principally  devoted  himself. 
Pythagoras  answered,  that  he  professed  no  art,  and  was  simply 
a  philosopher.  Leon,  struck  by  the  novelty  of  the  name,  again 
inquired  who  were  the  jdiilosophers,  and  in  what  they  differed 
from  other  men.  Pythagoras  replied,  that  human  life  seemed 
to  rer^emble  the  great  fliir,  held  on  occasion  of  those  solemn 
games  which  all  Greece  met  to  celebrate.  For  some,  exercised 
in  athletic  contests,  resorted  thither  in  quest  of  glory  and  the 
crown  of  victory ;  while  a  greater  number  flocked  to  them  in 
order  to  buy  and  sell,  attracted  by  the  love  of  gain.  There 
were  a  few,  however,  — and  they  w^ere  those  distinguished  by 
their  liberality  and  intelligence,  —  who  came  from  no  motive  of 
g^iory  or  of  gain,  but  simply  to  look  about  them,  and  to  take  note 
of  wiiat  was  done,  and  in  what  manner.     So  likewise,  continued 

*  lo(;)ia  in  Greek,  thouo;!!  sometimes  used  in  a  wide  sense,  like  the  tei-m 
wise  ap]>lied  to  skill  in  handicraft,  yet  properly  denoted  speculative,  not 
practical,  wisdom  or  |)rudcnce. 


Pythagoras,  w^e  men  all  make  our  entrance  into  this  life  on  our 
departure  from  another.  Some  are  here  occupied  in  the  pur- 
suit of  honors,  others  in  the  search  of  riches  ;  a  few  there  are 
who,  indifferent  to  all  else,  devote  themselves  to  an  inquiry  into 
the  nature  of  things.  These,  then,  are  they  whom  I  call  stu- 
dents of  wisdom,  for  such  is  meant  by  philosopher. 

The  anecdote  rests  on  very  slender  authority.  It  is  proba- 
ble, I  think,  that  Socrates  was  the  first  who  adopted,  or,  at 
least,  the  first  who  familiarized,  the  expression.  It  was  natural 
that  he  should  be  anxious  to  contradistinguish  himself  from  the 
Sophists  {ol  ooqioi,  ol  aocpioral),  literally,  the  wise  men  ;  and  no 
term  could  more  appropriately  ridicule  the  arrogance  of  these 
pretenders,  or  afford  a  happier  contrast  to  their  haughty  desig- 
nation, than  that  of  philosopher  (i.  e.  the  lover  of  wisdom)  ;  and, 
at  the  same  time,  it  is  certain  that  the  substantives  (^iXooocfia 
and  q}i}.66oqog  first  appear  in  the  writings  of  the  Socratic 
school.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  the  verb  qiiXoGoqjeiv  is  found  in 
Herodotus,  in  the  address  by  Croesus  to  Solon  ;  and  that,  too,  in 
a  participial  form,  to  designate  the  latter  as  a  man  who  had 
travelled  abroad  for  the  purpose  of  acquiring  knowledge.  It  is, 
therefore,  not  impossible  that,  before  the  time  of  Socrates, 
those  w^ho  devoted  themselves  to  the  pursuit  of  the  higher 
branches  of  knowledge,  were  occasionally  designated  philoso- 
phers :  but  it  is  far  more  probable  that  Socrates  and  his  school 
first  appropriated  the  term  as  a  distinctive  appellation  ;  and 
that  the  w^ord  philosophy,  in  consequence  of  this  appropriation, 
came  to  be  employed  for  the  complement  of  all  higher  knowl- 
edge, and,  more  especially,  to  denote  the  science  conversant  about 
the  principles  or  causes  of  existence.  The  term  philosophy,  I 
may  notice,  which  was  originally  assumed  in  modesty,  soon  lost 
its  Socratic  and  etymological  signification,  and  returned  to  the 
meaning  of  crogi/a,  or  wisdom.  Quintilian  calls  it  nomen  inso- 
lentissimum  ;  Seneca,  nomen  invidiosum  ;  Epictetus  counsels 
his  scholars  not  to  call  themselves  "  Philosophers  ;  "  and  proud 
is  one  of  the  most  ordinary  epithets  with  which  philosophy  is 
now  associated. 

Philosophy  —  the  thing  —  its  definitions.  —  So  much  for  the 


m 


30  NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


name  signifying ;  we  proceed  now  to  the  thing  signified.    Were 
I  to  detail  the  various  definitions  of  philosophy  wliich  philoso- 
phers have  promulgated  —  far  more,  were  I  to  explain   the 
grounds  pn  which  the  author  of  each  maintains  the  exclusive 
adequacy  of  his  peculiar  definition  —  I  should,  in  the  present 
stage  of  your  progress,  only  perplex   and  confuse  you.     All 
such  definitions  are    (if   not   positively   erroneous),  either  so 
vague  that  they  afford  no  precise  knowledge  of  their  object ;  or 
they  are  so  partial,  that  they  exclude  what  they  ought  to  com- 
prehend ;  or  they  are  of  such  a  nature  that  tliey  supply  no  pre- 
liminary information,  and  are  only  to  be  understood  (if  ever), 
after  a  knowledge  has  been  acquired  of  that  which  they  profess 
to  explain.     It  is,  indeed,  perhaps   impossible   adequately  to 
define  philosophy.     For  what  is  to  be  defined  comprises  what 
cannot  be  included  in  a  single  definition.     For  philosophy  is  not 
regarded  from  a  siiigJe  point  of  view  ;  —  it  is  sometimes  consid- 
ered as  theoretical,  —  that  is,  in  relation  to  man  as  a  thinking 
and  cognitive  intelligence  ;  sometimes  as  practical,  —  that  is,  in 
relation  to  man  as  a  moral  agent ;  —  and  sometimes,  as  compre- 
hending both  theory  and  practice.    Again,  philosophy  may  either 
be   regarded   objectively,    that   is,  as   a   complement  of  truths 
known ;  or  subjectively,  —  that  is,  as  a  habit  or  quality  of  the 
mind  knowing.     In  these  circumstances,  I  shall  not  attempt  a 
definition  of  i)hilosophy,  but  shall  endeavor  to  accomplish  the 
end  which  every  definition  proposes,  —  make  you  understand, 
as  precisely  as  the  unprecise  nature  of  the  object-matter  per- 
mits, what  is  meant  by  philosophy,  and  what  are  the  sciences  it 
properly  comprehends  within  its  sphere. 

Definitions  in  Greek  antiquity.  —  As  a  matter  of  history,  I 
may  here,  however,  parentlietically  mention,  that  in  Greek 
antiquity,  there  were,  in  all,  six  definitions  of  philosophy  which 
obtained  celebrity.  The  first  and  second  define  philosophy 
from  its  object  matter,  —  that  wliich  it  is  about ;  the  third  and 
fourth,  from  its  end,  —  that  for  the  sake  of  which  it  is  ;  the 
fifth,  from  its  relative  preeminence  ;  and  the  sixth,  from  its  ety- 
mology. 

The  first  of  these  definitions  of  philosophy  is,  —  "  the  knowl- 


NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


31 


edge  of  tilings  existent  as  existent."  The  second  is,  —  "the 
knowledge  of  tilings  divine  and  human."  These  are  both  from 
the  object-matter ;  and  both  were  referred  to  Pythagoras. 

The  third  and  fourth,  the  two  definitions  of  philosoj^hy  from 
its  end,  are,  again,  both  taken  from  Plato.  Of  these,  the  third 
is,  —  "  philosophy  is  a  meditation  of  death  ; "  the  fourth,  — 
"  philosophy  is  a  resembling  of  the  Deity  in  so  far  as  that  is 
competent  to  man." 

The  fifth,  that  from  its  preeminence,  was  borrowed  from 
Aristotle,  and  defined  philosophy  "  the  art  of  arts,  and  science 
of  sciences." 

Finally,  the  sixth,  that  from  the  etymology,  was,  like  the  first 
and  second,  carried  up  to  Pythagoras  ;  —  it  defined  philosophy 
"  the  love  of  wisdom." 

To  these  a  seventh  and  even  an  eighth  were  sometimes 
added;  —  but  the  seventh  was  that  by  the  physicians,  who 
defined  medicine  the  philosophy  of  bodies,  and  philosophy  the 
medicine  of  souls.  This  was  derided  by  the  philosophers  ;  as, 
to  speak  with  Homer,  being  an  exchange  of  brass  for  gold,  and 
of  gold  for  brass,  and  as  defining  the  more  known  by  the  less 
known.  Tiie  eighth  is  from  an  expression  of  Plato,  who,  in 
the  Theaitetus,  calls  pliilosophy  "  the  greatest  music,"  meaning 
thereby  the  harmony  of  the  rational,  irascible,  and  appetent 
part5  of  the  soul. 

What  Philosophy  is.  —  But  to  return :  All  philosophy  is 
knowledge,  but  all  knowledge  is  not  philosophy.  Philosophy  is, 
therefore,  a  kind  of  knowledge. 

Philosophical  and  empirical  hioidedge.  —  What,  then,  is 
philosoi)liical  knowledge,  and  how  is  it  discriminated  from 
knowled^  in  general  ?  We  are  endowed  by  our  Creator  with 
certain  faculties  of  observation,  which  enable  us  to  become 
aware  of  certain  appearances  or  phnenomena.  These  faculties 
may  be  stated  as  two,  —  Sense,  or  External  Perception,  and 
Self-Consciousness,  or  Internal  Perception  ;  and  these  faculties 
severally  affortl  us  the  knowledge  of  a  different  series  of  phte- 
nomena.  Througli  our  senses,  we  apprehend  what  exists,  or 
what  occurs,  in   the  external  or  material  world ;  by  our  self- 


32 


NATURE  AND  CO^IPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY.         33 


consciousness?,  we  apprehend  what  is,  or  what  occurs,  in  the 
internal  world,  or  world  of  thought.  What  is  the  extent,  and 
what  the  certainty,  of  the  knowledge  acquired  through  sense 
and  self-consciousness,  we  do  not  at  present  consider.  It  is 
now  sufficient  that  the  simple  fact  be  admitted,  that  we  do 
actually  thus  know ;  and  that  fact  is  so  manifest,  that  it  re- 
quires, I  presume,  at  my  hands,  neither  proof  nor  illustration. 
The  information  v/hich  we  thus  receive,  —  that  certain  plue- 
nomena  are,  or  have  been,  is  called  Historical  or  Empirical 
knowledge.  It  is  called  historical,  because,  in  this  knowledge, 
we  know  only  the  fact,  only  that  the  phajnomenon  is ;  for  his- 
tory is  properly  only  the  nan-ation  of  a  consecutive  series  of 
pha^nomena  in  time,  or  the  description  of  a  coexistent  series  of 
pha^nomena  in  space.  Civil  history  is  an  example  of  the  one ; 
natural  history,  of  the  other.  It  is  called  empirical  or  experien- 
tial, if  we  might  use  that  term,  because  it  is  given  us  by  expe- 
rience or  observation,  and  not  obtained  as  the  result  of  infer- 


ence or  reasonmt;. 


By-meaning  of  the  term  empirical.  —  I  may  notice,  by  paren- 
thesis, that  you  must  discharge  from  your  minds  the  by-meaning 
accidentally  associated  with  the  word  empiric^  or  empirical,  in 
common  English.  This  term  is,  with  us,  more  familiarly  used  in 
reference  to  medicine,  and  from  its  fortuitous  employment  in 
that  science,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  word  empirical  has  unfortu- 
nately acquired,  in  our  language,  a  one-sided  and  an  unfavora- 
ble meaning.  Of  the  origin  of  this  meaning  many  of  you  may 
not  be  aware.  You  are  aware,  however,  that  t^iTteiQta  is  the 
Greek  term  for  experience,  and  tuTTFiQi-xo^  an  epithet  applied  to 
one  who  uses  experience.  Now,  among  the  Greek  physicians, 
there  arose  a  sect  who,  professing  to  employ  experience  alone, 
to  the  exclusion  of  generalization,  analogy,  and  reasoning,  de- 
nominated themselves  distinctively  ot  tfiTieiQC/.oi —  the  Empirics. 
The  opposite  extreme  was  adopted  by  another  sect,  who,  reject- 
ing observation,  founded  their  doctrine  exclusively  on  reasoning 
and  theory;  —  and  these  called  themselves  o'l  ^i8\}odr^oi  —  or 
Methodists.  A  third  school,  of  whom  Galen  was  the  head, 
opposed  equally  to  the  two  extreme  sects  of  the  Empirics  and 


of  the  Methodists,  and,  availing  themselves  both  of  experience 
and  reasoning,  were  styled  ol  ^oyiiaimoi — the  Dogmatists,  or 
rational  physicians.     A  keen  controversy  arose ;  the  Empirics 
were  defeated  ;  they  gradually  died  out ;  and  their  doctrine,  of 
which  nothing  is  known  to  us,  except  through  the  writings  of 
their  adversaries,  has  probably  been  painted  in  blacker  colors 
than  it  deserved.     Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  word  was 
first  naturalized  in  Enghsh,  at  a  time  when  the  Galenic  works 
were  of  paramount  authority  in  medicine,  as  a  term  of  medical 
import  —  of  medical    rei)roach;    and   the    collateral   meaning, 
which  it  had  accidentally  obtained  in  that  science,  was  asso- 
ciated with  an  unfavorable  signification,  so  that  an  Empiric,  in 
common  English,  has  been  long  a  synonyme  for  a  charlatan  or 
quack-doctor,  and,  by  a  very  natural  extension,  in  general,  for 
any  ignorant  pretender  in  science.     In  philosophical  language, 
the  tenn  empirical  means  simply  what  belongs  to,  or  is  the  pro 
duct  of,  exj^erience  or  observation,  and,  in  contrast  to  another 
term  afterwards  to  be  explained,  is  now  technically  in  general 
use  through  every  other  country  of  Europe.     Were  there  any 
other  word  to  be  found  of  a  corresponding  signification  in  Eng- 
lish,  it   would   perhaps,   in    consequence   of    the   by-meaning 
attached  to  empirical,  be  expedient  not  to  employ  this  latter. 
But  there  is  not.     Experiential  fs   not   in  common  use,  and 
experimental  only  designates  a  certam  kind  of  experience  — 
namely,  that  in  which  the  fact  observed  has  been  brought  about 
by  a  certain  intentional  preaiTangement  of  its  coefficients.    But 
this  by  the  way. 

Empirical  knowledge.  —  Returning,  then,  from  our  digi-ession : 
Historical  or  empirical  knowledge  is  simply  the  knowledge  that 
something  is.  Were  we  to  use  the  expression,  the  knowledge 
that,  it  would  sound  awkward  and  unusual  in  our  modern  lan- 
guages. In  Greek,  the  most  philosophical  of  all  tongues,  its 
parallel,  however,  was  familiarly  employed,  more  especially  in 
the  Aristotelic  philosophy,  in  contrast  to  another  knowledge  of 
which  we  are  about  to  speak.  It  was  called  the  to  on,  rj  yvaGig 
on  loriv.  I  should  notice,  that  with  us,  the  knowledge  that,  is 
commoidy  called  the  knowledge  of  the  fact.     As  examples  of 


m 


34         NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

empirical  knowledge,  take  the  facts,  whether  known  on  our  own 
experience  or  on  the  tegtified  experience  of  others,  — that  a 
stone  falls,  — that  smoke  ascends,  —  that  the  leaves  bud  in 
spring  and  fall  in  autumn,  — that  such  a  book  contains  such  a 
passage,  —  that  such  a  passage  contains  such  an  opinion,  —  that 
Cffisar,  that  Charlemagne,  that  Napoleon,  existed.  [Empirical 
is  also  used  in  contrast  with  Necessary  knowledge ;  the  former 
signifying  the  knowledge  simply  of  what  is,  the  latter  of  what 
must  be.] 

Philosophical  hioidedge  —  what.  —  But  things  do  not  exist, 
events  do  not  occur,  isolated,  —  apart  —  by  themselves;  they 
exist,  they  occur,  and  are  by  us  conceived,  only  in  connection. 
Our  observation  affords  us  no  example  of  a  pha^nomenon  which 
is  not  an  effect ;  nay,  our  thought  cannot  even  realize  to  itself 
the  possibility  of  a  pha?nomenon  without  a  cause.     We  do  not 
at  present  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the  connection  of  effect  and 
cause,  —  either  in  reality,  or  in  thought.     It  is  sufficient  for 
our  present  purpose  to  observe  that,  while,  by  the  constitution 
of  our  nature,  we  are  unable  to  conceive  any  thing  to  begin  to 
be,  without  referring  it  to  some  cause,  — still  the  knowledge  of 
its  particular  cause  is  not  involved  in  the  knowledge  of  any 
particular  effect.     By  this  necessity  which  we  are  under,  of 
thinking  some  cause  for  every  phienomenon ;  and  by  our  origi- 
nal ignorance  of  what  particular  causes  belong  to  what  i)articular 
effects,  —  it  is  rendered  impossible  for  us  to  acquiesce  in  the 
mere  knowledge  of  the  fact  of  a  pluTnomenon  :  on  the  contrary, 
we  are  determined,  —  we  are  necessitated,  to  regard  each  i)hfE- 
nomenon  as  only  partially  known,  until  we  discover  the  causes 
on  which  it  depends  for  its  existence.     For  example,  we  are 
struck  with  the  appearance  in  the  heavens  called  a  rainbow. 
Think  we  cannot  that  this  phtenomenon  has  no  cause,  though 
we  may  be  wholly  ignorant  of  what  that  cause  is.     Now,  our 
knowledge  of  the  phienomenon  as  a  mere  fact,  —  as  a  mere 
isolated  event,  —  does  not  content  us  ;  we  therefore  set  about 
an  inquiry  into  the  cause,  —  which  the  constitution  of  our  mind 
compels  us  to  suppose,  —  and  at  length,  discover  that  the  rain- 
bow is  the  effect  of  the  refraction  of  the  solar  rays  by  the  watery 


NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY.         35 


particles  of  a  cloud.     Having  ascertained  the  cause,  but  not  till 
then,  we  are  satisfied  that  we  fully  know  the  effect. 

Now,  this  knowledge  of  the  cause  of  a  phgenomenon  is  differ- 
ent from,  is  something  more  than,  the  knowledge  of  that  phae- 
nomenon  simply  as  a  fact ;  and  these  two  cognitions  or  knowl- 
edges have,  accordingly,  received  different  names.  The  latter, 
we  have  seen,  is  called  historical  or  empirical  knowledge  ;  the 
former  is  called  philosophical,  or  scientijic,  or  rational  knowl- 
edge. Historical,  is  the  knowledge  that  a  thing  is  —  philo- 
sophical, is  the  knowledge  why  or  how  it  is.  And  as  the  Greek 
language,  with  peculiar  felicity,  expresses  historical  knowledge 
by  the  on  —  the  yvaoig  on  tan :  so,  it  well  expresses  philo- 
sophical knowledge  by  the  dion  —  the  yvaatg  dion  ean,  though 
here  its  relative  superiority  is  not  the  same.  To  recapitulate 
what  has  now  been  stated  :  —  There  are  two  kinds  or  degrees 
of  knowledge.  The  first  is  a  knowledge  that  a  thing  is  —  on 
XQiinid  tan,  retn  esse ;  —  and  it  is  called  the  knowledge  of  the 
fact,  historical  or  empirical  knowledge.  The  second  is  a  knowl- 
edge Avhy  or  how  a  thing  is,  dion  XQW^  ^^^^  ^^^  ^^^  **^^*  —  ^^^ 
is  termed  the  knowledge  of  the  cause,  philosophical,  scientific, 
rational  knowledge. 

Philosophy  implies  a  search  after  first  causes.  —  Philosophical 
knowledge,  in  the  widest  acceptation  of  the  term,  and  as  synony- 
mous with  science,  is  thus  the  knowledge  of  effects  as  dependent 
on  their  causes.  Now,  what  does  this  imply?  In  the  first 
place,  as  every  cause  to  which  we  can  ascend  is  itself  also  an 
effect,  —  it  follows  that  it  is  the  scope,  that  is,  the  aim  of  phi- 
losophy, to  trace  up  the  series  of  effects  and  causes,  until  we 
arrive  at  causes  which  are  not  also  themselves  effects.  These 
first  causes  do  not  indeed  lie  within  the  reach  of  philosophy,  nor 
even  within  the  sphere  of  our  comprehension ;  nor,  consequently, 
on  the  actual  reaching  them  does  the  existence  of  philosophy 
depend.  But  as  philosophy  is  the  knowledge  of  effects  in  their 
causes,  the  tendency  of  philosophy  is  ever  upwards  ;  and  phi- 
losophy can,  in  thought,  in  theory,  only  be  viewed  as  accom- 
plished, —  which  in  reality  it  never  can  be,  —  when  the  ultimate 
causes,  —  the  causes  on  which  all  other  causes  depend,  —  have 
been  attained  and  understood. 


36       NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY.       37 


But,  in  the  second  place,  as  every  effect  is  only  produced  by 
the  concurrence  of  at  least  two  causes  (and  by  cause,  be  it  ob- 
served, I  mean  ei'ery  thing  without  which  the  effect  could  not  he 
realized)^  and  as  these  concurring  or  coefiicient  causes,  in  fact, 
constitute  the  effect,  it  follows,  that  the  lower  we  descend  in  the 
series  of  causes,  the  more  complex  will  be  the  product ;  and 
that  the  higher  we  ascend,  it  will  be  the  more  sim])le.  Let  us 
take,  for  example,  a  neutral  salt.  This,  as  you  probably  know, 
is  the  product,  the  combination,  of  an  alkali  and  an  acid. 
Now,  considering  the  salt  as  an  effect,  what  are  the  concurrent 
causes,  —  the  co-efficients,  —  which  constitute  it  w  hat  it  is  ? 
These  arejjfrst,  the  acid,  with  its  affinity  to  the  alkali ;  secondly, 
the  alkali,  with  its  affinity  to  the  acid ;  and  thirdly,  the  trans- 
lating force  (perhaps  the  human  hand)  which  made  their  affin- 
ities available,  by  bringing  the  two  bodies  within  the  sphere  of 
mutual  attraction.  Each  of  these  three  concurrents  must  be 
considered  as  a  })artial  cause ;  for,  abstract  any  one,  and  the 
effect  is  not  produced.  Now,  these  three  partial  causes  are 
each  of  them  again  effects ;  but  effects  evidently  less  complex 
than  the  effect  which  they,  by  their  concurrence,  constituted. 
But  each  of  these  three  constituents  is  an  effect ;  and  therefore 
to  be  analyzed  into  its  causes ;  and  these  causes  again  into 
others,  until  the  procedure  is  checked  by  our  inal)ility  to  resolve 
the  last  constituent  into  simpler  elements.  But,  though  thus 
unable  to  carr^'  our  analysis  beyond  a  limited  extent,  we  neither 
conceive,  nor  are  we  able  to  conceive,  the  constituent  in  which 
our  analysis  is  arrested,  as  itself  any  thing  but  an  effect.  We 
therefore  carry  on  the  analysis  in  imagination ;  and  as  each  step 
in  the  })rocedure  carries  us  from  the  more  complex  to  the  more 
simple,  and.  rnn ^;equently,  nearer  to  unity,  we  at  last  arrive  at 
that  unitv  i.  •  i.  —  at  that  ultimate  cause  which,  as  ultimate, 
cannot  again  be  conceived  as  an  effect.* 

*  I  may  notice  that  an  ultimate  cause,  and  a  first  cause,  are  the  same, 
but  viewed  in  different  relations.  What  is  called  the  ultimate  cause  in  as- 
cending from  effects  to  causes,  —  that  is,  in  the  regressive  order,  is  called 
the  first  cause  in  descending  from  causes  to  effects,  —  that  is,  in  the  pro- 
gressive order. 


Philosophy  thus,  as  the  knowledge  of  effects  in  their  causes, 
necessarily  tends,  not  towards  a  plurality  of  ultimate  or  first 
causes,  but  towards  one  alone.  This  first  cause,  —  the  Creator, 
it  can  mdeed  never  reach,  as  an  object  of  immediate  knowl- 
edge ;  but,  as  the  convergence  towards  unity  in  the  ascending 
series  is  manifest,  in  so  far  as  that  series  is  within  our  view,  and 
as  it  is  even  impossible  for  the  mind  to  suppose  the  convergence 
not  continuous  and  complete,  it  follows,  —  unless  all  analogy  be 
rejected,  —  unless  our  intelligence  be  declared  a  lie,  —  that  we 
must,  philosophically,  believe  in  that  ultimate  or  primary  unity 
which,  in  our  present  existence,  we  are  not  destined  in  itself  to 

apprehend. 

Such  is  philosophical  knowledge  in  its  most  extensive  signifi- 
cation ;  and,  in  this  signification,  all  the  sciences,  occupied  in 
the  research  of  causes,  may  be  viewed  as  so  many  branches  of 
philosophy.  There  is,  however,  one  section  of  these  sciences 
which  is  denominated  philosophical  by  preeminence  ;  —  sci- 
ences which  the  tenn  philosophy  exclusively  denotes,  when 
employed  in  propriety  and  rigor.  What  these  sciences  are, 
and  why  the  term  philosophy  has  been  specially  limited  to 
them,  I  shall  now  endeavor  to  make  you  understand. 

Man's  knowledge  relative.  —  "  Mmi,"  says  Protagoras,  "  is  the 
measure  of  the  universe ; "  and,  in  so  far  as  the  universe  is  an 
object  of  human  knowledge,  the  paradox  is  a  truth.  Whatever 
we  know,  or  endeavor  to  know,  God  or  the  world,  —  mind  or 
matter,  —  the  distant  or  the  near,  —  we  know,  and  can  know, 
only  in  so  far  as  we  possess  a  faculty  of  knowing  in  general ; 
and  we  can  only  exercise  that  faculty  under  the  laws  which 
control  and  limit  its  operations.  However  great,  and  infinite, 
and  various,  therefore,  may  be  the  universe  and  its  contents,  — 
these  are  known  to  us,  not  as  they  exist,  but  as  our  mind  is 
capable  of  knowhig  them.  Hence  the  brocard  —  "  Quiequid 
recipitur,  recii)itur  ad  modum  recipientis." 

In  the  first  place,  therefore,  as  philosophy  is  a  knowledge, 
and  as  all  knowledge  is  only  possible  under  the  conditions  to 
which  our  faculties  are  subjected,  —  the  grand,  the  primary, 
problem  of  philosophy  must  be  to  investigate  and  determine 

4 


\ 


38      NATURE   A.ND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


these  conditions,  as  the  necessary  conditions  of  its  own  possi- 
bility. 

The  study  of  mind  the  Jirst  ohject  of  philosophy.  —  In  the 
second  place,  as  philosophy  is  not  merely  a  knowledge,  but  a 
knowledge  of  causes,  and  as  the  mind  itself  is  the  universal 
and  principal  concurrent  cause  in  every  act  of  knowledge ;  phi- 
losophy is,  consequently,  bound  to  make  the  mind  its  first  and 
paramount  object  of  consideration.  The  study  of  mind  is  thus 
the  philosophical  study  by  preeminence.  There  is  no  branch 
of  philosophy  which  does  not  suppose  this  as  its  preliminary, 
which  does  not  borrow  from  this  its  light.  A  considerable 
number,  indeed,  are  only  the  science  of  mind  viewed  in  particu- 
lar aspects^  or  considered  in  certain  special  applications.  Logic, 
for  example,  or  the  science  of  the  laws  of  thought,  is  only  a 
fragment  of  the  general  science  of  mind,  and  presupposes  a 
certain  knowledge  of  the  operations  which  are  regulated  by 
these  laws.  Ethics  is  the  science  of  the  laws  which  govern 
our  actions  as  moral  agents  ;  and  a  knowledge  of  these  laws  is 
only  possible  through  a  knowledge  of  the  moral  agent  himself. 
Political  science,  in  like  manner,  supposes  a  knowledge  of  man 
in  his  natural  constitution,  in  order  to  appreciate  the  modifica- 
tions which  he  receives,  and  of  which  he  is  susceptible,  in  social 
and  civil  life.  The  Fine  Arts  have  all  their  foundation  in  the 
theory  of  the  beautiful ;  and  this  theory  is  afforded  by  that  part 
of  the  philosophy  of  mind,  which  is  conversant  with  the  phae- 
nomena  of  feeling.  Religion,  Theology,  in  fine,  is  not  inde- 
pendent of  the  same  philosophy.  For  as  God  only  exists  for  us 
as  we  have  faculties  capable  of  apprehending  his  existence,  and 
of  fulfilling  his  behests,  nay,  as  the  phcenomena  from  which  we 
are  warranted  to  infer  his  being  are  wholly  mental,  the  exam- 
ination of  these  faculties  and  of  these  pha^nomena  is,  conse- 
quently, the  primary  condition  of  every  sound  theology.  In 
short,  the  science  of  mind,  whether  considered  in  itself,  or  in 
relation  to  the  other  branches  of  our  knowledge,  constitutes  the 
principal  and  most  important  object  of  j)hilosophy,  —  consti- 
tutes in  propriety,  with  its  suit  of  dependent  sciences,  philoso- 
phy itself. 


NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY.      39 

Misapplication  of  the  term  Philosophy  in  England.  —  The 
Umitation   of   the   term   Philosophy   to  the  sciences  of  mmd, 
when  not  expressly  extended  to  the  other  branches  of  science, 
has  been  always  that  generally  prevalent ;  —  yet  it  must  be 
confessed  that,  in  this  country,  the  word  is  applied  to  subjects 
with  which,  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  it  is  rarely,  if  ever, 
associated.     With  us,  the  word  philosophy,  taken  by  itself,  does 
not  call  up  the  precise  and  limited  notion  which  it  does  to  a 
German,  a  Hollander,  a  Dane,  an  Italian,  or  a  Frenclmian ; 
and  we  are  obliged  to  say  the  philosophy  of  mind,  if  we  do  not 
wi^  it  to  be  vaguely  extended  to  the  sciences  conversant  with 
the  pha^nomena  of  matter.     We  not  only  call  Physics  by  the 
name  of  Natural  Philosophy,  but  every  mechanical  process  has 
with  us  its  philosophy.     We  have  books  on  the  pliilosophy  of 
Manufactures,  the  philosophy  of  Agriculture,  the  philosophy  of 
Cookery,  etc.     In  all  this  we  are  the  ridicule  of  other  nations. 
Socrates,' it  is  said,  brought  down  philosophy  from  the  clouds,— 
the  EngUsh  have  degraded  her  to  the  kitchen ;  and  this,  our 
prostitution  of  the  term,  is,  by  foreigners,  alleged  as  a  sig- 
nificant indication  of  the  low  state  of  the  mental  sciences  m 

Britain. 

From  what  has  been  said,  you  will,  without  a  definition,  be 
able  to  form  at  least  a  general  notion  of  what  is  meant  by  plii- 
losophy. In  its  more  extensive  signification,  it  is  equivalent  to 
a  Inoioledge  of  things  hy  their  causes,  —  and  this  is,  in  fact, 
Ai-istotle's  definition  ;  while,  in  its  stricter  meaning,  it  is  con- 
fined to  the  sciences  which  constitute,  or  hold  immediately  of,  the 
science  of  mind. 


CHAPTER    III. 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PHILOSOPHY,   AND  THE  DISPOSITIONS  ^TITH 
WHICH  IT   OUGHT  TO  BE  STUDIED. 

The  causes  of  philosophy.  —  Having  thus  endeavored  to 
make  you  vaguely  apprehend  what  cannot  be  precisely  under- 
stood, —  the  Nature  and  Comprehension  of  Philosophy,  —  I 
now  proceed  to  another  question,  —  AVliat  are  the  Causes  of 
Philosophy  ?  The  causes  of  philosophy  lie  in  the  original  ele- 
ments of  our  constitution.  AVe  are  created  with  the  faculty  of 
knowledge,  and,  consequently,  created  with  the  tendency  to 
exert  it.  Man  philosophizes  as  he  lives.  He  may  philosophize 
well  or  ill,  but  philosophize  he  must.  Philosoi)hy  can,  indeed, 
only  be  assailed  through  philosophy  itself.  "  If,"  says  Ai-istotle, 
in  a  passage  preserved  to  us  by  Olymplodorus,  *'  we  must  phi- 
losophize, we  must  philosophize ;  if  we  must  not  philosophize, 
we  must  philosophize  ;  —  in  any  case,  therefore,  we  must  phi- 
losophize." "  Were  philosophy,"  says  Clement  of  Alexandria, 
"  an  evil,  still  philosophy  is  to  be  studied,  in  order  that  it  may 
be  scientifically  contemned."  And  Averroes,  —  "  Philosophi 
solum  est  spemere  philosoi)hiam."  Of  the  causes  of  philoso- 
phy some  are,  therefore,  contahied  in  man's  very  capacity  for 
knowledge ;  these  are  essential  a?id  necessary.  But  there  are 
others,  again,  which  lie  in  certain  fcehngs  with  which  he  is 
endowed ;  these  are  complementary  and  assistant. 

Essential  Causes  of  Philosophy.  —  Of   tlie  former   class, 

that  is,  of  the  essential  causes,  —  there  are  in  all  two:  the  one 
is,  the  necessity  we  feel  to  connect  Causes  tvith  Effects;  the 
other,  to  carry  up  our  knowledye  into  Unity.  These  tendencies, 
however,  if  not  identical  in  their  origin,  coincide  in  their  result ; 
for,  as  I  have  previously  explained  to  you,  in  ascending  from 

(40) 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


41 


cause  to  cause,  we  necessai-ily  (could  we  carry  our  analysis  to 
its  issue),  arrive  at  absolute  unity.  Indeed,  were  it  not  a  dis- 
cussion for  which  you  are  not  as  yet  prepared,  it  might  be 
shown,  that  both  principles  origmate  in  the  same  condition  ;  — 
that  both  emanate,  not  from  any  original  power,  but  from  the 
same  original  powerlessness  of  mind. 

1.   The  principle  of  Cause  and  Effect.  — O^  the  former,— 
namely,  the  tendency,  or  rather  the  necessity,  whi<jh  we  feel  to 
connect  the  objects  of  our  experience  with  others  which  afford 
the  reasons  of  their  existence,  —  it  is  needful  to  say  but  little. 
The  nature  of  this  tendency  is  not  a  matter  on  which  we  can  at 
present  enter ;  and  the  fact  of  its  existence  is  too  notorious  to 
require  either  proof  or  illustration.     It  is  sufficient  to  say,  or 
rather  to  repeat  what  we  have  already  stated,  that  the  mind  is 
unable  to  realize  in   thought  the  possibility  of  any  absolute 
coimnencemeut ;  it  cannot  conceive  that  any  thing  which  begins 
to  be  is  any  thing  more  than  a  new  moditication  of  preexistent 
elements  ;  it  is  unable  to  view  any  individual  thmg  as  other  than 
a  link  in  the  mighty  chain  of  being ;  and  every  isolated  object 
is  viewed  by  it  only  as  a  fragment  which,  to  be  known,  must  be 
known  m  connection  with  the  whole  of  which  it  constitutes  a 
part.*     It  is  thus  that  we  are  unable  to  rest  satisfied  with  a 

*  [The  phenomenon  is  this  :  —  When  aware  of  a  new  appearance,  we  are 
unable  to  conceive  that  therein  has  originated  any  new  existence,  and  are, 
therefore,  constrained  to  think,  that  what  now  appears  to  us  under  a  new 
.form,  had  previously  an  existence  under  others,  —  others  conceivable  by  us 
or  not.     These  others  (for  tlicy  arc  always  plural)  are  called  its  cause  ;  for 
a  cause  is  simply  every  thing  without  which  the  effect  would  not  result, 
and  all  such  concurring,  the  effect  cannot  but  result.     We  are  utteriy  un- 
able to  construe  it  in  thought  as  possible,  that  the  complement  of  existence 
has  been  either  increased  or  diminished.     We  cannot  conceive,  either,  on 
the  one  hand,  nothing  becoming  something,  or,  on  the  other,  something 
becoming  nothing.     When  God  is  said  to  create  the  universe  out  of  noth- 
ing, we  think  this,  by  supposing  that  he  evolves  the  universe  out  of  nothing 
but  himself;  and,  in  like  manner,  we  conceive  annihilation,  only  by  con- 
ceiving the  Creator  to  withdraw  Ins  creation,  by  withdrawing  liis  creative 

energy  from  actuality  into  power The  mind  is  thus  compelled  to 

recognize  an  absolute  identity  of  existence  in  the  effect  and  in  the  comple- 
ment of  its  causes,  —  between  the  causatum  and  the  causa.     We  think  the 

4* 


42 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PPIILOSOPHY. 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


43 


mere  historical  knowledge  of  existence  ;  and  that  even  our 
happiness  is  interested  in  discovering  causes,  hypothetical  at 
least,  if  not  real,  for  the  various  phainomena  of  the  existence 
of  which  our  experience  informs  us. 

**  Pelix  qui  potuit  rerum  cognosccre  causas." 

2.   The  love  of  Unity.  —  The  second  tendency  of  our  nature, 
of  which  philosoi)hy  is  the  result,  is  the  desire  of  Unity.     On 
this,  which  indeed  involves  the  other,  it  is  necessary  to  be  some- 
what more  explicit.     This  tendency  is  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent characteristics  of  the  human  mind.     It,  in  part,  originates 
in  the  imbecility  of  our  fiiculties.     We  are  lost  in  the  multitude 
of  the  objects  presented  to  our  observation,  and  it  is  only  by 
assorting  them  in  classes  that  we  can  reduce  the  infinity  of 
nature  to  the  finitude  of  mind.     The  conscious  Ego,  the  con- 
scious Self,  by  its  nature  one,  seems  also  constrained  to  require 
that  unity  by  which  it  is  distinguished,  in  every  thing  which  it 
receives,  and  in  every  thing  which  it  produces.     I  regret  that  I 
can  illustrate  this  only  by  examples  which  cannot,  I  am  aware, 
as  yet  be  fully  intelligible  to  all.     We  are  conscious  of  a  scene 
presented  to  our  senses  only  by  uniting  its  parts  into  a  perceived 
whole.     Perception  is  thus  a  unifying  act.     The  Imagination 
cannot  represent  an  object  without  uniting,  in  a  single  combina- 
tion, the  various  elements  of  which  it  is  composed.      Generali- 
zation is  only  the  apprehension   of  the  one  in  the  many,  and 
language  little  else  than  a  registry  of  the  factitious  unities  of 
thought.     The  Judgment  cannot  affirm  or  deny  one  notion  of 
another,  except  by  uniting  the  two  in  one  indivisible  act  of  com- 
parison.    Syllogism  is  simply  the  union  of  two  judgments  in  a 
third.     Reason,  Intellect,  vov^,  in  fine,  concatenating  thoughts 
and  objects  into  system,  and  tending  always  upwards  from  i>ar- 
ticular  tacts  to  general  laws,  from  general  laws  to  universal 
principles,  is  never  satisfied  in  its  ascent  till  it  comprehend 

• 
causes  to  contain  all  that  is  contained  in  the  effect ;  the  effect  to  contain 
nothing  but  what  is  contained  in  tlic  causes.     Each  is  the  sum  of  tlie  other. 

"  Omuia  mutantur,  nihil  intent."]  —  Discussions. 


(what,  however,  it  can  never  do)  all  laws  in  a  single  formula, 
and  consummate  all  conditional  knowledge  in  the  unity  of  un- 
conditional existence.  Nor  is  it  only  in  science  that  the  mind 
desiderates  the  one.  We  seek  it  equally  in  works  of  art.  A 
work  of  art  is  only  deserving  of  the  name,  inasmuch  as  an  idea 
of  the  work  has  preceded  its  execution,  and  inasmuch  as  it  is 
itself  a  realization  of  the  ideal  model  in  sensible  forms.  All 
languages  express  the  mental  operations  by  words  which  denote 
a  reduction  of  the  many  to  the  one.  ^vv^aig,  TteQihjXVig,  Gvvai- 
c&riaig,  (rvvemyvaat^,  etc.  in  Greek ;  —  in  Latin,  cogere,  (co-agere), 
cogitare,  {co-agitare),  concipere,  cognoscere,  comprehendere,  con- 
scire,  with  their  derivatives,  may  serve  for  examples. 

Testimonies  to  the  love  of  Unity. — The  histoiy  of  philoso- 
phy is  only  the  history  of  this  tendency ;  and  philosophers  have 
amply  testified  to  its  reality.  "  The  mind,"  says  Anaxagoras, 
"  only  knows  when  it  subdues  its  objects,  when  it  reduces  the 
manv  to  the  one."  "  All  knowledge,"  say  the  Platonists,  "  is 
the  gathering  up  into  one,  and  the  indivisible  apprehension  of 
this  unity  by  the  knowing  mind."  Leibnitz  and  Kant  have,  i'l 
like  manner,  defined  knowledge  by  the  representation  of  ^  .alti- 
tude in  unity.  "  The  end  of  philosophy,"  says  Plato,  "  is  the 
intuition  of  unity ; "  and  Plotinus,  among  many  others,  observes 
that  our  knowledge  is  perfect  as  it  is  one.  The  love  of  unity 
is  by  Ai-istotle  applied  to  solve  a  multitude  of  psychological 
phoenomena.  St.  Augustin  even  analyzes  pain  into  a  feeUng 
of  the  frustration  of  unity.  "  Quid  est  enim  aliud  dolor,  nisi 
quidam  sensus  divisionis  vel  corruptionis  impatiens  ?  Unde  luce 
clarius  ai)paret,  quam  sit  ilia  anima  in  sui  corporis  universitate 
avida  unitatis  et  tenax." 

Love  of  unity  a  guiding  principle  in  philosophy.  —  This  love 
of  unity,  this  tendency  of  mmd  to  generalize  its  knowledge, 
leads  us  to  anticipate  in  nature  a  corresponding  uniformity; 
and  as  this  anticipation  is  found  in  harmony  with  experience, 
it  not  only  affords  the  efficient  cause  of  philosophy,  but  the 
guiding  principle  to  its  discoveries.  "  Thus,  for  instance,  when 
it  is  observed  that  solid  bodies  are  compressible,  we  are  inclined 
to  expect  that  liquids  will  be  found  to  be  so  likewise ;  we  sub- 


44 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


45 


ject  tliem,  consequently,  to  a  series  of  experiments ;  nor  do  we 
rest  satisfied  until  it  be  proved  that  this  quality  is  common  to 
both  classes  of  substances.  Compressibility  is  then  proclaimed 
a  physical  law,  —  a  law  of  nature  in  general ;  and  we  experi- 
ence a  vivid  gratification  in  this  recognition  of  unconditioned 
universality."  Another  example ;  Kant,  reflecting  on  the  dif- 
ferences among  the  planets,  or  rather  among  the  stars  revolving 
round  the  sun,  and  having  discovered  that  these  differences  be- 
trayed a  unifonn  progress  and  proportion,  —  a  proportion  which 
was  no  longer  to  be  found  between  Saturn  and  the  first  of  the 
comets,  — the  law  of  unity  and  the  analogy  of  nature,  led  him 
to  conjecture  that,  in  the  intervening  space,  there  existed  a  star, 
the  discovery  of  which  would  vindicate  the  universality  of  the 
law.*  This  anticipation  was  verified.  Uranus  was  discovered 
by  Herschel,  and  our  dissatisfaction  at  the  anomaly  appeased. 
Frankhn,  in  like  manner,  surmised  that  lightnmg  and  the  electric 
spark  were  identical ;  and  when  he  succeeded  in  verifying  this 
conjecture,  our  love  of  unity  was  gratified.  From  the  moment 
an  isolated  fact  is  discovered,  we  endeavor  to  refer  it  to  other 
facts  which  it  resembles.  Until  this  be  accomplished,  we  do 
not  view  it  as  understood.  This  is  the  ease,  for  example,  with 
sulphur,  which,  in  a  certain  degree  of  temperature  melts  like 
other  bodies,  but  at  a  higher  degree  of  heat,  instead  of  evapo- 
rating, again  consolidates.  When  a  fact  is  generalized,  our 
discontent  is  quieted,  and  we  consider  the  generality  itself  as  tan- 
tamount to  an  explanation.  Why  does  this  apple  fall  to  the 
ground?  Because  all  bodies  gravitate  towards  each  other. 
Ai-rived  at  this  general  fact^ve  inquire  no  more,  although  igno- 
rant now  as  previously  of  the  cause  of  gravitation ;  for  gravi- 
tation is  nothing  more  than  a  name  for  a  general  fact,  the  why 
of  which  we  know  not.  A  mystery,  if  recognized  as  universal, 
would  no  longer  appear  mysterious. 

*  Kant's  conjecture  was  founded  on  a  supposed  progressive  increase  in 
the  eccentricities  of  the  planetary  orbits.  This  progression,  however,  is 
only  true  of  Venus,  the  Earth,  Jupiter,  and  Saturn.  The  eccentricity  di- 
minishes aji:ain  in  Uranus,  and  still  more  in  Neptune.  Subsequent  discov- 
eries have  tiius  rather  weakened  than  confiraied  the  ihaoi-y.  —  Eiujlish 
Editors. 


'f 


The  love  of  unity  also  a  source  of  error.  —  "  But  this  thirst 
of  unity,"  as  Gamier  remarks,  "  this  tendency  of  mhid  to  gen- 
eralize its  knowledge,  and  our  concomitant  belief  in  the  uni- 
formity of  natural  phaenomena,  is  not  only  an  effective  mean  of 
discovery,  but  likewise  an  abundant  source  of  error.     Hardly 
is  there  a  similarity  detected  between  two  or  three  facts,  than 
men  hasten  to  extend  it  to  all  others  ;  and  if,  perchance,  the 
similarity  has  been  detected  by  ourselves,  self-love  closes  our 
eyes  to  the   contradictions  which  our   theory  may  encounter 
from  experience."     "  I  have  heard,"  says  Condillac,  "  of  a  phi- 
losopher who  had  the  happiness  of  thinking  that  he  had  dis- 
covered a   principle  which  was  to  explain  all   the  wonderful 
pha?nomena  of  chemistry,  and  who,  in  the  ardor  of  his  self- 
gratulation,  hastened  to  communicate  his  discovery  to  a  skilful 
chemist.     The  chemist  had  the  kindness  to  listen  to  him,  and 
then  calmly  told  him  that  there  was  but  one  unfortunate  circum- 
stance for  his  discovery,  —  that  the  chemical  facts  were  precisely 
the  converse  of  what  he  had  supposed  them  to  be.     'Well, 
then,'  said  the  philosopher,  '  have  the  goodness  to  tell  me  Avhat 
they  are,  that  I  may  explain  them  on  my  system.'  "     We  are 
naturally  disposed  to  refer  every  thing  we  do  not  know  to  prin- 
ciples with  which  we  are  familiar.     As  Aristotle  observes,  the 
early  Pythagoreans,  who  first  studied  arithmetic,  were  induced, 
by  their  scientific  predilections,  to  explain  the  problem  of  the 
universe  by  the  properties  of  number  ;  and  he  notices  also  that 
a  certain  musical  philosopher  was,  in  Uke  manner,  led  to  suppose 
that  the  soul  was  but  a  kind  of  harmony.     The  musician  sug- 
gests to  my  recollection  a  passage  of  Dr.  Reid.     "  Mr.  Locke," 
says  he,  "  mentions  an  eminent  musician  who  believed  that  God 
created  the  world  in  six  days,  and  rested  the  seventh,  because 
there  are  but  seven  notes  in  music.     I  myself,"  he  continues, 
"knew  one  of  that  profession  who  thought  there  could  be  only 
three  parts  in  harmony  —  to  wit,  bass,  tenor,  and  treble ;  be- 
cause there  are  but  three  persons  in  the  Trinity."     The  alche- 
mists would  see  in  nature  only  a  single  metal,  clothed  with  the 
different  appearances  which  we  denominate  gold,  silver,  copper, 
iron,  mercury,  etc.,  and  they  confidently  explained  the  mysteries. 


46 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


THE  CAUSES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


47 


not  only  of  nature,  but  of  religion,  by  salt,  sulphur,  and  mer- 
cury. Some  of  our  modern  zoologists  recoil  from  the  possibility 
of  nature  working  on  two  different  plans,  and  rather  than 
renounce  the  unity  which  delights  them,  they  insist  on  recogniz- 
ing the  wings  of  insects  in  the  gills  of  fishes,  and  the  sternum 
of  quadrupeds  in  the  antennie  of  buttei*flies ;  —  and  all  this  that 
they  may  prove  that  man  is  only  the  evolution  of  a  molluscum ! 
Descartes  saw  in  the  physical  world  only  matter  and  motion ; 
and,  more  recently,  it  has  been  maintained  that  thought  itself 
is  only  a  movement  of  matter.  Of  all  the  faculties  of  the 
mind,  CondiUac  recognized  only  one,  which  transfoimed  itself 
like  the  Protean  metal  of  the  alchemists ;  and  he  maintains 
that  our  belief  in  the  rising  of  to-morrow's  sun  is  a  sensation. 
It  is  this  tendency,  indeed,  which  has  principally  determined 
philosophers,  as  w^e  shall  hereafter  see,  to  neglect  or  violate  the 
original  duality  of  consciousness ;  in  which,  as  an  ultimate  fact, 
—  a  self  and  not-self,  —  mind  knowing  and  matter  known,  —  are 
given  in  counterpoise  and  mutual  opposition;  and  hence  the 
three  Unitarian  schemes  of  Materiahsm,  Ideahsm,  and  Absolute 
Identity.  In  fine.  Pantheism,  or  the  doctrine  which  identifies 
mind  and  matter,  —  the  Creator  and  the  creature,  God  and  the 
universe,  —  how  are  we  to  explain  the  prevalence  of  this  modi- 
fication of  atheism  in  the  most  ancient  and  in  the  most  recent 
times  ?  Simply  because  it  carries  our  love  of  unity  to  its  high- 
est fruition. 

Influence  of  preconceived  opinion  reducible  to  love  of  unity.  — 
To  this  love  of  unity  —  to  this  desire  of  reducing  the  objects  of 
our  knowledge  to  harmony  and  system  —  a  source  of  truth  and 
discovery  if  subservient  to  observation,  but  of  error  and  delusion 
if  allowed  to  dictate  to  observation  what  phaenomena  are  to  be 
perceived ;  to  this  principle,  I  say,  we  may  refer  the  influence 
which  preconceived  opinions  exercise  upon  our  perceptions  and 
our  judgments,  by  inducing  us  to  see  and  require  only  what  is 
in  uni.-on  with  them.  What  we  wish,  says  Demosthenes,  that 
we  beheve ;  what  we  expect,  says  Ai'istotle,  that  we  find ;  — 
truths  which  have  been  reechoed  by  a  thousand  confessors,  and 
confirmed  by  ten  thousand  examples.     Opinions  once  adopted 


become  part  of  the  intellectual  system  of  their  holders.     If  op- 
posed to  prevalent  doctrines,  self-love  defends  them  as  a  point 
of  honor,  exaggerates  whatever  may  confirm,  overlooks  or  ex- 
tenuates whatever  may  contradict.     Again,  if  accepted  as  a 
general  doctrine,  they  are  too  often  recognized,  in  consequence 
of  their  prevalence,  as  indisputable  truths,  and  all  counter  ap- 
pearances peremptorily  overruled  as  manifest  illusions.     Thus 
it  is  that  men  will  not  see  in  the  phopnomena  what  alone  is  to  be 
seen  ;  in  theii*  observations  they  interi)olate  and  they  expunge  ; 
and  this  mutilated  and  adulterated  product  they  call  a  fact. 
And  why  ?     Because  the  real  phnenomcna,  if  admitted,  would 
spoil  the  pleasant  music  of  their  thoughts,  and  convert  its  facti- 
tious harmony  into  discord.     "  Quai  volunt  sapiunt,  et  nolunt 
sapere  qme  vera  sunt."     In  consequence  of  this,  many  a  system, 
professing  to  be  reared  exclusively  on  observation  and  fact,  rests 
in  reality  mainly  upon  hypothesis  and  fiction.     A  pretended  ex- 
perience is,  indeed,  the  screen  behind  which  every  illusive  doc- 
trine regularly  retires.     "There   are  more  I'alse   facts,"    says 
Cullen,  "  current  in  the  world,  than  false  theories  ;  "  —  and  the 
hvery  of  Lord  Bacon  has  been  most  ostentatiously  paraded  by 
many  who  were  no  members  of  his  household.     Fact,  —  obser- 
vation, —  induction,  have  always  been  the  watchwords  of  those 
who  have  dealt  most  extensively  in  fancy.     It  is  now  above 
tln-ee  centuries  since  Agrippa,  in  his  Vanity  of  the  Sciences,  ob- 
served  of    Astrology,    Physiognomy,    and    Metoposcopy    (the 
Phrenology  of  those  days),  that  experience  was   professedly 
their  only  foundation  and  tlieir  only  defence :  "  Solent  omnes 
illa3  divinationum  prodigiosos  artes  non,  nisi  experientiae  titulo, 
se  defendere  et  se  objectionum  vinculis  extricare."     It  was  on 
tliis  ground,  too,  that,  at  a  later  period,  the  great  Kepler  vindi- 
cated the  first  of  these  arts.  Astrology.     "  For,"  said  he,  "  how 
could  the  principle  of  a  science  be  fiilse,  where  experience  showed 
that  its  predictions  were  uniformly  fulfilled."     Now,  truth  was 
with  Kepler  even  as  a  passion  ;  and  his,  too,  was  one  of  the 
most  powerful  intellects  that  ever  cultivated  and  promoted  a 
Bcience.     To  him,  astronomy,  indeed,  owes  perhaps  even  more 
than  to  Newton.     And  yet,  even  his  great  mind,  preoccupied 


48 


THE  CAUSES  OF  rHILOSOPHY. 


with  a  certain  prevalent  belief,  could  observe  and  judge  only  in 
conformity  with  that  belief.     This  tendency  to  look  at  realities 
only  through  the  spectacles  of  an  hypothesis,  is  perhaps  seen 
most  conspicuously  in  the  fortunes  of  medicine.     The  history 
of  that  science  is,  in  truth,  littk^  else  than  an  incredible  narrative 
of  the  substitution  of  fictions  for  facts ;  the  converts  to  an  hy- 
pothesis (and  every,  the  most  contradictory,  doctrine  has  had 
its  day),  regularly  seeing  and  reporting  only  in  conformity  with 
its  dictates.     The  same  is  also  true  of  the  philosophy  of  mind ; 
and  the  variations  and  alternations  in  this  science,  which  are 
perhaps  only  surpassed  by  those  in  medicine,  are  to  be  traced  to 
a  refusal  of  the  real  phienomenon  revealed  in  consciousness,  and 
to  the  substitution  of  another,  more  in  unison  with  preconceived 
opinions  of  what  it  ought  to  be.     Nor,  in  this  commutation  of 
fact  with  fiction,  should  we  suspect  that  there  is  any  mala  fides. 
Prejudice,  imagination,  and  passion  sufficiently  explain  the  illu- 
sion.    "  Fiiigunt  simul  creduntque."     "  IVhen,"  says  Kant,  "  we 
have  once  heard  a  bad  report  of  this  or  that  individual,  we  m- 
continently  think  that  we  read  the  rogue  in  his  countenance ; 
fancy  here   mingles  with   observation,   wliich   is   still   further 
vitiated  when  affection  or  passion  interferes." 

Auxiliary  cause  of  philosophy  —  Wonder.  —  Such  are  the 
two  intellectual  necessities  which  affiard  the  two  principal  sources 
of  pliilosophy :  —  the  intellectual  necessity  of  refunding  effects 
into  their  causes ;  —  and  the  intellectual  necessity  of  carrying 
up  our  knowledge  into  unity  or  system.  But,  besides  these 
intellectual  necessities,  which  are  involved  in  the  very  existence 
of  our  faculties  of  knowledge,  there  is  another  powerful  subsidi- 
ary to  the  same  effect,  —  in  a  certain  affection  of  our  capacities 
of  feeling.  This  feeling,  according  to  circumstances,  is  denomi- 
nated surprise,  astonishment,  admiration,  wonder,  and,  when 
blended  v»ith  the  intellectual  tendencies  we  have  considered,  it 
obtains  the  name  of  curiosity.  This  feehng,  tliough  it  cannot, 
as  some  have  held,  be  allowed  to  be  the  princi])al,  far  less  the 
only,  cause  of  philosophy,  is,  however,  a  powerful  auxilijiry  to 
speculation  ;  and,  though  inadequate  to  account  for  the  existence 
of  philosophy  absolutely,  it  adequately  explains  the  preference 


THE   CAUSES   OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


49 


with  which  certain  parts  of  philosophy  have  been  cultivated, 
and  the  order  in  which  philosophy  in  general  has  been  devel- 
oped. We  may  err  both  in  exaggerating,  and  in  extenuating, 
its  influence.  Wonder  has  been  contemptuously  called  the 
daughter  of  ignorance  ;  true  !  but  wonder,  we  should  add,  is  the 
mother  of  knowledge.  Among  others,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Plu- 
tarch, and  Bacon  have  all  concurred  in  testifying  to  the  influ- 
ence of  this  principle.  "  Admiration,"  says  the  Platonic  Socrates 
in  the  Thecetetus,  —  "  admiration  is  a  highly  philosophical  affec- 
tion ;  indeed,  there  is  no  other  principle  of  philosophy  but  this." 
—  ^-That  philosophy,"  says  Aristotle,  "was  not  originally 
studied  for  any  practical  end,  is  manifest  from  those  who  first 
began  to  philosophize.  It  was,  in  fact,  wonder,  which  then,  as 
now,  determined  men  to  philosophical  researches.  Among  the 
phienomena  presented  to  them,  their  admiration  was  first  di- 
rected to  those  more  proximate  and  more  on  a  level  with  their 
powers,  and  then,  rising  by  degrees,  they  came  at  length  to  de- 
mand an  explanation  of  the  higher  phjienomena,  —  as  the  dif- 
ferent states  of  the  moon,  sun,  and  stars,  —  and  the  origin  of  the 
universe.  Now,  to  doubt  and  to  be  astonished  is  to  recognize 
our  ignorance.  Hence  it  is,  that  the  lover  of  wisdom  is,  in  a 
certain  sort,  a  lover  of  mythi,  {^il6nv&6g  Ttag)  ;  for  the  subject 
of  mythi  is  the  astonishing  and  marvellous.  K,  then,  men  phi- 
losophize to  escape  ignorance,  it  is  clear  that  they  pursue  knowl- 
edge on  its  own  account,  and  not  for  the  sake  of  any  foreign 
utility.  Tills  is  proved  by  the  fact ;  for  it  was  only  after  all 
that  pertained  to  the  wants,  welfare,  and  conveniences  of  life 
had  been  discovered,  that  men  commenced  their  philosophical 
researches.  It  is,  therefore,  manifest  that  we  do  not  study 
philosophy  for  the  sake  of  any  thing  ulterior;  and,  as  we 
call  him  a  free  man  who  belongs  to  himself  and  not  to  another, 
so  philosophy  is,  of  all  sciences,  the  only  free  or  liberal  study, 
for  it  alone  is  unto  itself  an  end."  — "  It  is  the  business 
of  philosophy,"  says  Plutarch,  "  to  investigate,,  to  admire,  and 

to  doubt." 

Wonder  explains  the  order  in  which  objects  are  studied. — 
We   have   already   remarked,   that  the    principle   of  wonder 

6 


50 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


affords  an  explanation  of  the  order  in  which  the  different 
objects  of  philosophy  engaged  the  attention  of  mankind.  The 
aim  of  all  philosophy  is  the  discovery  of  principles,  that  is, 
of  higher  causes  ;  but,  in  the  procedure  to  this  end,  men  first 
endeavored  to  explain  those  phaenomena  which  attracted  their 
attention  by  arousing  their  wonder.  The  child  is  wholly  ab- 
sorbed in  the  observation  of  the  world  without ;  the  world 
within  first  engages  the  contemplation  of  the  man.  As  it  is 
with  the  mdividual,  so  was  it  with  the  species.  Philosophy, 
before  attempting  the  problem  of  inteUigence,  endeavored  to 
resolve  the  problem  of  nature.  The  spectacle  of  the  external 
universe  was  too  imposing  not.  first  to  soUcit  curiosity,  and  to 
direct  upon  itself  the  prelusive  efforts  of  philosophy.  Thales 
and  Pythagoras,  in  whom  philosophy  finds  its  earliest  represent- 
atives, endeavored  to  explain  the  organization  of  the  universe, 
and  to  substitute  a  scientific  for  a  religious  cosmogony.  For  a 
season,  their  successors  toiled  in  the  same  course ;  and  it  was 
only  after  philosophy  had  tried,  and  tired,  its  forces  on  external 
nature,  that  the  human  mind  recoiled  upon  itself,  and  sought  in 
the  study  of  its  own  nature  the  object  and  end  of  philosophy. 
The  mind  now  became  to  itself  its  point  of  departure,  and  its 
principal  object ;  and  its  progress,  if  less  ambitious,  was  more 
secure.  Socrates  was  he  who  first  decided  this  new  destination 
of  philosophy.  From  his  epoch,  man  sought  in  himself  the  so- 
lution of  the  great  problem  of  existence ;  and  the  history  of 
philosophy  was  henceforward  only  a  development,  more  or  less 
successful,  more  or  less  complete,  of  the  inscription  on  the  Del- 
phic temple  —  FvcoOi  aeavjov  —  Know  thyself. 

Havmg  informed  you, —  1*^,  AYhat  Pliilosophy  is,  and  2°, 
"VYhat  are  its  Causes,  I  would  now  say  a  few  words  on  the  Dis- 
positions with  which  Philosophy  ought  to  be  studied ;  for,  with- 
out certain  practical  conditions,  a  speculative  knowledge  of  the 
most  perfe(.'t  Method  of  procedure  (our  next  following  ques- 
tion), remains  barren  and  unapplied. 

*'  To  attain  to  a  knowledge  of  ourselves,"  says  Socrates,  "  we 
must  banish  prejudice,  passion,  and  sloth ; "  and  no  one  who 
neglects  this  precept,  can  hope  to  make  any  progress  in  the  phi- 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


51 


losophy  of  the  human  mind,  which  is  only  another  term  for  the 
knowledge  of  ourselves. 

First  conditio7i,  —  renunciation  of  prejudice.  —  In  the  first 
place,  then,  all  prejudices,  —  that  is,  all  opinions  formed  on 
irrational   grounds,  —  ought   to   be   removed.     A   preliminary 
doubt  is  thus  the  fundamental  condition  of  philosophy  ;  and  the 
necessity  of  such  a  doubt  is  no  less  apparent  than  is  its  difift- 
culty.     We  do  not  approach  the  study  of  philosophy  ignorant, 
but  perverted.     "  There  is  no  one,"  says  Gatien-Arnouh,  "  who 
ha^  not  grown  up  under  a  load  of  beliefs  —  beliefs  which  he 
owes  to  the  accidents  of  country  and  family,  to  the  books  he  has 
read,  to  the  society  he  has  frequented,  to  the  education  he  has 
received,  and,  in  general,  to  the  circumstances  which  have  con- 
curred in  the  formation  of  his  intellectual  and  moral  habits. 
These  beliefs  may  be  true,  or  they  may  be  false,  or,  what  is 
more  probable,  they  may  be  a  medley  of  truths  and  errors. 
It  is,   however,   under    their   mfluence   that   he   studies,   and 
through  them,  as  through  a  prism,  that  he  views  and  judges  the 
objects  of  knowledge.     Every  thing  is  therefore  seen  by  him  in 
false  colors,  and  in  distorted  relations.     And  this  is  the  reason 
why  philosophy,  as  the  science  of  truth,  requires  a  renunciation 
of  prejudices  {prce-judicia,  o'piniones  prcE-judicatcs),  —  that  is, 
conclusions   formed  without   a  previous  exammation  of   theii* 

grounds." 

In  this,  Christianity  and  Philosophy  are  at  one.  —  In  this,  if  I 
may  without  irreverence  compare  things  human  with  things 
divine,  Christianity  and  Philosophy  coincide,  —  for  truth  is 
equally  the  end  of  both.  What  is  the  primary  condition  which 
our  Saviour  requires  of  his  disciples  ?  That  they  throw  off 
their  old  prejudices,  and  come  with  hearts  willing  to  receive 
knowledge,  and  understandings  open  to  conviction.  "  Unless," 
He  says,°"  ye  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  Such  is  true  religion ;  such  also  is  true 
phibsophy.  Philosophy  requires  an  emancipation  from  the 
yoke  of  foreign  authority,  a  renunciation  of  all  blind  adhesion 
to  the  opinions  of  our  age  and  country,  and  a  purification  of  the 
intellect  from  all  assumptive  beliefs.     Unless  we  can  cast  off 


52 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  prejudices  of  the  man,  and  become  as  children,  docile  and 
unperverted,  we  need  never  hope  to  enter  the  temple  of  philos- 
ophy. It  is  the  neglect  of  this  primary  condition,  which  has 
mainly  occasioned  men  to  wander  from  the  unity  of  truth,  and 
caused  the  endless  variety  of  religious  and  philosophical  sects. 
Men  would  not  submit  to  approach  the  word  of  God  in  order  to 
receive  from  that  alone  their  doctrine  and  their  faith  ;  but  they 
came,  in  general,  with  preconceived  opinions,  and,  accordingly, 
each  found  in  revelation  only  what  he  was  predetermined  to 
find.  So,  in  like  manner,  is  it  in  philosophy.  Consciousness  is 
to  the  philosopher  what  the  Bible  is  to  the  theologian.  Both  are 
revelations  of  the  truth  ;  and  both  afford  the  truth  to  those 
who  are  content  to  receive  it,  as  it  ought  to  be  received,  with 
reverence  and  submission.  But  as  it  has,  too  frequently,  fared 
with  the  one  revelation,  so  has  it  with  the  other.  Men  tunied, 
indeed,  to  consciousness,  and  professed  to  regard  its  authority 
as  paramount ;  but  they  were  not  content  humbly  to  accept  the 
facts  which  consciousness  revealed,  and  to  establish  these  with- 
out retrenchment  or  distortion,  as  the  only  principles  of  their 
philosophy  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  came  with  opinions  already 
formed,  with  systems  ah-eady  constructed ;  and  while  they 
eagerly  appealed  to  consciousness  when  its  data  supported  theu* 
conclusions,  they  made  no  scruple  to  overlook,  or  to  misinter- 
pret, its  facts,  when  these  were  not  in  harmony  with  their  spec- 
ulations. Thus,  religion  and  philosophy,  as  they  both  terminate 
in  the  same  end,  so  they  both  depart  from  the  same  fundamen- 
tal condition. 

But  the  influence  of  early  prejudice  is  the  more  dangerous, 
inasmuch  as  this  influence  is  unobtrusive.  Few  of  us  are,  per- 
haps, fully  aware  of  how  little  we  owe  to  ourselves,  —  how 
much  to  the  influence  of  others. 

Source  of  the  poicer  of  custom.  —  ^lan  is  by  nature  a  social 
animal.  "  He  is  more  political,"  says  Aristotle,  '^  than  any  bee 
or  ant."  But  the  existence  of  society,  from  a  family  to  a  state, 
supposes  a  certain  harmony  of  sentiment  among  its  members  ; 
and  nature  has,  accordingly,  wisely  implanted  in  us  a  tendency 
to  assimilate,  in  opinions  and  habits  of  thought,  to  those  with 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


53 


whom  we  live  and  act.     There  is  thus,  in  every  society,  great 
or  small,  a  certain  gravitation  of  opinions  towards  a  common 
centre.     As  in  our  natural  body,  every  part  has  a  necessary 
sjTnpathy  with  every  other,  and  all  together  form,  by  their  har- 
monious conspiration,  a  healthy  whole  ;  so,  in  the  social  body, 
there  is  always  a  strong  predisposition,  in  each  of  its  members, 
to  act  and  think  in  unison  with  the  rest.     This  universal  sym- 
pathy, or  fellow-feeling,  of  our  social  nature,  is  the  principle  of 
the  different  spirit  dominant  in  different  ages,  countries,  ranks, 
sexes,  and  periods  of  life.     It  is  the  cause  why  fashions,  why 
political  and  rehgious  enthusiasm,  why  moral  example,  either 
for  good  or  evil,  spread  so  rapidly,  and  exert  so  powerful  an 
influence.     As  men  are  naturally  prone  to  imitate  others,  they 
consequently  regard,  as  important  or  insignificant,  as  honorable 
or  disgraceful,  as   true  or  false,  as  good  or  bad,  what  those 
around  them  consider  in  the  same  light.     They  love  and  hate 
what  they  see  others  desire  and  eschew.     This  is  not  to  be  re- 
gretted ;  it  is  natural,  and,  consequently,  it  is  right.     Indeed, 
were  it  otherwise,  society  could  not  subsist,  for  nothing  can  be 
more  apparent  than  that  mankind  in  general,  destined  as  they 
are  to  occupations  incompatible  with  intellectual  cultivation,  are 
wholly  incapable  of  forming  opinions  for  themselves  on  many 
of  the  most  important  objects  of  human  consideration.    If  such, 
however,  be  the  intentions  of  nature  with  respect  to  the  unen- 
lightened  classes,  it   is   manifest  that  a  heavier  obligation  is 
thereby  laid  on  those  who  enjoy  the  advantages  of  intellectual 
cultivation,  to  examine  with  dihgence  and  impartiality  the  foun- 
dations of  those  opinions  which  have  any  connection  with  the 
welfare  of  mankind.     If  the  multitude  must  be  led,  it  is  of  con- 
sequence that  it  be  led  by  enlightened  conductors.     That  the 
great  multitude  of  mankind  are,  by  natural  disposition,  only 
what  others  are,  is  a  fact  at  all  times  so  obtrusive,  that  it  could 
not  escape  observation  from  the  moment  a  reflective  eye  was 
first  turned  upon  man.     "  The  whole  conduct  of  Cambyses," 
says  Herodotus,  the  father  of  history,  "  towards  the  Egyptian 
gods,  sanctuaries,  and  priests,  convinces  me  that  this  king  was 
in  the  highest  degree  insane  ;  for  otherwise,  he  would  not  have 

5* 


54 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


insulted  the  worship  and  lioly  things  of  the  Egyptians.  If  any 
one  should  accord  to  all  men  the  permission  to  make  free  choice 
of  the  best  among  all  customs,  undoubtedly  each  would  choose 
his  own.  That  this  would  certainly  happen,  can  be  shown  by 
many  examples,  and,  among  others,  by  the  following.  The 
King  Darius  once  asked  the  Greeks  who  were  resident  in  his 
court,  at  what  price  they  could  be  induced  to  devour  their  dead 
parents.  Tlie  Greeks  answered,  that  to  this  no  price  could 
bribe  them.  Thereupon  the  king  asked  some  Indians,  who  were 
in  the  habit  of  eating  their  dead  parents,  what  they  would  take, 
not  to  eat,  but  to  burn  them  ;  and  the  Indians  answered  even  as 
the  Greeks  had  done."  Herodotus  concludes  this  narrative 
with  the  observation,  that  ''  Pindar  had  justly  entitled  Cus- 
tom—  the  Queen  of  the  World." 

Sceptical  inference  from  the  influence  of  custom.  —  The 
ancient  sceptics,  from  the  conformity  of  men,  in  every  country, 
in  their  habits  of  thinking,  feeUng,  and  acting,  and  from  the 
diversity  of  different  nations  in  these  habits,  inferred  tliat  noth- 
ing was  by  nature  beautiful  or  deformed,  true  or  false,  good  or 
bad,  but  that  these  distinctions  originated  solely  in  custom.  The 
modern  scepticism  of  Montaigne  tenninates  in  the  same  asser- 
tion ;  and  the  sublime  misanthropy  of  Pascal  has  almost  carried 
him  to  a  sunilar  exaggeration.  "  In  the  just  and  the  unjust," 
says  he,  "  we  find  hardly  any  thing  which  does  not  change  its 
character  in  changing  its  climate.  Tlu*ee  degrees  of  an  eleva- 
tion of  the  pole  reverses  the  whole  of  jurisprudence.  A 
meridian  is  decisive  of  truth,  and  a  few  years  of  possession. 
Fundamental  laws  change.  Right  has  its  epochs.  A  pleasant 
justice,  which  a  river  or  a  mountain  limits  !  Truth,  on  this  side 
the  Pyrenees,  error  on  the  other !  "  This  doctrine  is  exag- 
gerated, but  it  has  a  foundation  in  truth  ;  and  the  most  zealous 
champions  of  tlie  inuiuitability  of  moral  distinctions  are  unani- 
mous in  acknowledging  tlie  [)owerful  influence  which  the  opin- 
ions, tastes,  manners,  affections,  and  actions  of  the  society  in 
which  we  live,  exert  upon  all  and  each  of  its  members. 

Influence  of  custom  and  example  in  revolutionary  times.  — 
Nor  is  this  influence  of  man  on  man  less  unambioruous  in  times 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


55 


of  soi'al  tranquillity,  than  in  crises  of  social  convulsion.  In 
season.,  of  political  and  religious  revolution,  there  arises  a 
struggle  between  the  resisting  force  of  ancient  habits  and  the 
contagious  sympathy  of  new  modes  of  feeling  and  thought. 
In  one  portion  of  society,  the  inveterate  influence  of  custom 
prevails  over  the  contagion  of  example  ;  in  others,  the  conta- 
gion of  example  prevails  over  the  conservative  force  of  an- 
tiquity and  habit.  In  either  case,  however,  we  think  and  act 
always  in  sympathy  with  others.  "  We  remain,"  says  an  illus- 
trious philosopher,  "  submissive  so  long  as  the  world  continues 
to  set  the  example.  As  we  follow  the  herd  in  forming  our  con- 
ceptions of  what  is  respectable,  so  we  are  ready  to  follow  the 
multitude  also,  when  such  conceptions  come  to  be  questioned  or 
rejected  ;  and  are  no  less  vehement  reformers,  when  the  cur- 
rent of  opinion  has  turned  against  former  establishments,  than 
we  were  zealous  abettors,  while  that  current  continued  to  set  in 
a  different  direction." 

Relation  of  the  individual  to  social  crises.  —  Thus  it  is,  that 
no  revolution  in  public  opinion  is  the  work  of  an  individual,  of 
a  single  cause,  or  of  a  day.  When  the  crisis  has  arrived,  the 
catastrophe  must  ensue ;  but  the  agents  through  whom  it  is  ap- 
parently accomplished,  though  they  may  accelerate,  cannot 
originate  its  occurrence.  Who  believes,  that,  but  for  Luther 
or  Zwingli,  the  Reformation  would  not  have  been  ?  Their  indi- 
vidual, their  personal  energy  and  zeal,  perhaps,  hastened  by  a 
year  or  two  the  event ;  but  had  the  public  mind  not  been 
already  ripe  for  their  revolt,  the  fate  of  Luther  and  Zwingli,  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  would  have  been  that  of  Huss  and  Je- 
rome of  Prague,  in  the  fifteenth.  Woe  to  the  revolutionist  who 
is  not  himself  a  creature  of  the  revolution !  If  he  anticipate, 
he  is  lost ;  for  it  requires,  what  no  individual  can  supply,  a  long 
and  powerful  counter-sympathy  in  a  nation  to  untwine  the 
ties  of  custom  which  bind  a  people  to  the  established  and  the 
old. 

Testimonies  to  the  power  of  received  opinion.  —  I  should 
have  no  end,  were  I  to  quote  to  you  all  that  philosophers  have 
said  of  the  prevalence  and  evil  influence  of  prejudice  and  opin- 


54 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


insulted  the  worship  aiid  lioly  things  of  the  Egyptians.  If  any 
one  should  accord  to  all  men  the  permission  to  make  free  choice 
of  the  best  among  all  customs,  undoubtedly  each  would  choose 
his  own.  That  this  would  certainly  happen,  can  be  shown  by 
many  examples,  and,  among  others,  by  the  following.  The 
King  Darius  once  asked  the  Greeks  who  were  resident  in  his 
court,  at  what  price  they  could  be  induced  to  devour  their  dead 
parents.  The  Greeks  answered,  that  to  this  no  price  could 
bribe  them.  Thereupon  the  king  asked  some  Indians,  who  were 
in  the  habit  of  eating  their  dead  parents,  what  they  would  take, 
not  to  eat,  but  to  burn  them  ;  and  the  Indians  answered  even  as 
the  Greeks  had  done."  Herodotus  concludes  this  narrative 
with  the  observation,  that  ''  Pindar  had  justly  entitled  Cus- 
tom—  the  Queen  of  the  World." 

Sceptical  inference  from  the  influence  of  custom.  —  The 
ancient  sceptics,  from  the  conformity  of  men,  in  every  country, 
in  their  habits  of  thinking,  feehng,  and  acting,  and  from  the 
diversity  of  different  nations  in  these  habits,  inferred  that  noth- 
ing was  by  nature  beautiful  or  deformed,  true  or  false,  good  or 
bad,  but  that  these  distinctions  originated  solely  in  custom.  The 
modern  scepticism  of  Montaigne  terminates  in  the  same  asser- 
tion ;  and  the  sublime  misanthropy  of  Pascal  has  almost  carried 
him  to  a  similar  exaggeration.  "  In  the  just  and  the  unjust," 
says  he,  "  we  find  hardly  any  thing  which  does  not  change  its 
character  in  changing  its  climate.  Three  degrees  of  an  eleva- 
tion of  the  pole  reverses  the  whole  of  jurisprudence.  A 
meridian  is  decisive  of  truth,  and  a  few  years  of  possession. 
Fundamental  laws  change.  Right  has  its  epochs.  A  pleasant 
justice,  which  a  river  or  a  mountain  limits  !  Truth,  on  this  side 
the  Pyrenees,  error  on  the  other !  "  This  doctrine  is  exag- 
gerated, but  it  lias  a  foundation  in  truth  ;  and  the  most  zealous 
champions  of  the  immutability  of  moral  distinctions  are  unani- 
mous in  acknowledging  the  poweiful  influence  which  the  opin- 
ions, tastes,  manners,  afi'ections,  and  actions  of  the  society  in 
which  we  live,  exert  upon  all  and  each  of  its  members. 

Influence  of  custom  and  example  in  revolutionary  times.  — 
Nor  is  this  influence  of  man  on  man  less  unambiguous  in  times 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


55 


of  social  tranquillity,  than  in  crises  of  social  convulsion.  In 
seasons  of  political  and  religious  revolution,  there  arises  a 
struggle  between  the  resisting  force  of  ancient  habits  and  the 
contagious  sympathy  of  new  modes  of  feeling  and  thought. 
In  one  portion  of  society,  the  inveterate  influence  of  custom 
prevails  over  the  contagion  of  example  ;  in  others,  the  conta- 
gion of  example  prevails  over  the  conservative  force  of  an- 
tiquity and  habit.  In  either  case,  however,  we  think  and  act 
always  in  sympathy  with  others.  "  We  remain,"  says  an  illus- 
trious philosopher,  "  submissive  so  long  as  the  world  continues 
to  set  the  example.  As  we  follow  the  herd  in  forming  our  con- 
ceptions of  what  is  respectable,  so  we  are  ready  to  follow  the 
multitude  also,  when  such  conceptions  come  to  be  questioned  or 
rejected  ;  and  are  no  less  vehement  reformers,  when  the  cur- 
rent of  opinion  has  turned  against  former  establishments,  than 
we  were  zealous  abettors,  while  that  current  continued  to  set  in 
a  different  direction." 

Relation  of  the  individual  to  social  crises.  —  Thus  it  is,  that 
no  revolution  in  public  opinion  is  the  work  of  an  individual,  of 
a  single  cause,  or  of  a  day.  When  the  crisis  has  arrived,  the 
catastrophe  must  ensue ;  but  the  agents  through  whom  it  is  ap- 
parently accomplished,  though  they  may  accelerate,  cannot 
originate  its  occurrence.  Who  believes,  that,  but  for  Luther 
or  Zwingli,  the  Reformation  would  not  have  been?  Their  indi- 
vidual, their  personal  energy  and  zeal,  perhaps,  hastened  by  a 
year  or  two  the  event ;  but  had  the  public  mind  not  been 
already  ripe  for  their  revolt,  the  fate  of  Luther  and  Zwingli,  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  would  have  been  that  of  Huss  and  Je- 
rome of  Prague,  in  the  fifteenth.  Woe  to  the  revolutionist  who 
is  not  liimself  a  creature  of  the  revolution !  If  he  anticipate, 
he  is  lost ;  for  it  requires,  what  no  individual  can  supply,  a  long 
and  powerful  counter-sympathy  in  a  nation  to  untwine  the 
ties  of  custom  which  bind  a  people  to  the  established  and  the 
old. 

Testimonies  to  the  power  of  received  opinion.  —  I  should 
have  no  end,  were  I  to  quote  to  you  all  that  philosophers  have 
said  of  the  prevalence  iind  evil  influence  of  prejudice  and  opin- 


56  THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 

ion.     "  Opinion,"  says  the  great  Pascal,  "  disposes  of  all  things. 
It  constitutes  beauty,  justice,  happiness ;  and  these  are  the  all 

in  all  of  the  world." 

"Almost  every  opinion  we  have,"  says  the  pious  Charon, 
"  we  have  but  by  authority ;  we  believe,  judge,  act,  live,  and 
die  on  trust,  as  common  custom  teaches  us  ;  and  rightly !  for  we 
are  too  weak  to  decide  and  choose  of  ourselves.  But  the  wise 
do  not  act  thus."  "Every  opinion,"  says  Montaigne,  "is 
strong  enough  to  have  had  its  martyrs ; "  and  Sir  W.  Raleigh  — 
"  It  is  opmion,  not  truth,  that  travelleth  the  world  without  pass- 
port." 

Doubt  the  first  step  to  philosophy.  —  Such  being  the  recog- 
nized universality  and  evil  effect  of  prejudice,  philosophers 
have,  consequently,  been  unanimous  in  making  doubt  the  first 
step  towards  philosophy.  Aristotle  has  a  fine  chapter  in  his 
Metaphysics  on  the  utiUty  of  doubt,  and  on  the  things  which 
we  ought  first  to  doubt  of;  and  he  concludes  by  establishing 
that  the  success  of  philosophy  depends  on  the  art  of  doubting 
well.  This  is  even  enjoined  on  us  by  the  Apostle.  For  in 
saying  "  Prove  "  (which  may  be  more  correctly  translated  test) 

"  Test  all  things,"  he  implicitly  commands  us  to  doubt  all 

things.     "  He,"  says  Bacon,  "  who  would  become  a  philosopher, 
must  commence  by  repudiating  belief ;  "  and  he  concludes  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  passages  of  his  writings  with  the  obser- 
vation, that,  "  were  there  a  single  man  to  be  found  with  a  firm- 
ness suflicient  to  efiace  from  his  mind  the  theories  and  notions 
vulgarly  received,  and  to  apply  his  intellect  free  and  without 
.  prevention,  the  best  hopes  might  be  entertained  of  his  success." 
"To  philosophize,"   says   Descartes,  "seriously,   and   to   good 
effect,  it  is  necessary  for  a  man  to  renounce  all  prejudices ;  in 
other  words,  to  apply  the  greatest  care  to  doubt  of  all  his  pre- 
vious opinions,  so  long  as  these  have  not  been  subjected  to  a 
new   examination,  and  been  recognized  as  true."     But  it  is 
needless  to  multiply  authorities  in  support  of  so  obvious  a  truth. 
The  ancient  philosophers  refused  to  admit  slaves  to  their  in- 
struction.    Prejudice  makes  men  slaves  ;   it  disqualifies  them 
for  the  pursuit  of  truth ;  and  their  emancipation  from  prejudice 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


57 


is  what  philosophy  first  inculcates  on,  what  it  first  requires  of, 

its  disciples. 

Philosophical  doubt  distinguished  from  scepticism.  —  Let  us, 
however,  beware  that  we  act  not  the  part  of  revolted  slaves ; 
that,  in  asserting  our  liberty,  we  do  not  run  into  license.  Phil- 
osophical doubt  is  not  an  end,  but  a  mean.  We  doubt  in  order 
that  we  may  believe;  we  begin,  that  we  may  not  end  with, 
doubt.  We  doubt  once  that  we  may  believe  always ;  we  re- 
nounce authority  that  we  may  follow  reason;  we  surrender 
opinion  that  we  may  obtain  knowledge.  We  must  be  protes- 
tants,  not  infidels,  in  philosophy.  "  There  is  a  great  difference," 
says  Malebranche,  "  between  doubting  and  doubting.  —  We  may 
doubt  through  passion  and  brutality;  through  blindness  and 
malice,  and  finally  through  fancy,  and  from  the  very  wish  to 
doubt ;  but  we  doubt  also  from  prudence  and  through  distrust, 
from  wisdom  and  through  penetration  of  mind.  The  former 
doubt  is  a  doubt  of  darkness,  which  never  issues  to  the  light, 
but  leads  us  always  further  from  it ;  the  latter  is  a  doubt  which 
is  born  of  the  light,  and  which  aids  in  a  certain  sort,  to  produce 
light  in  its  turn."  Indeed,  were  the  effect  of  philosophy  the 
establishment  of  doubt,  the  remedy  would  be  worse  than  the 
disease.  Doubt,  as  a  permanent  state  of  mind,  would  be,  in 
fiict  little  better  than  an  intellectual  death.  The  mind  lives  as 
it  believes,  —  it  lives  in  the  afiirmation  of  itself,  of  nature,  and 
of  God ;  a  doubt  upon  any  one  of  these  would  be  a  diminution 
of  its  life ;  —  a  doubt  upon  the  three,  were  it  possible,  would  be 
tantamount  to  a  mental  annihilation. 

It  is  well  observed,  by  Mr.  Stewart,  "  that  it  is  not  merely  in 
order  to  free  the  mind  from  the  influence  of  error,  that  it  is 
useful  to  examine  the  foundation  of  established  opinions.  It  is 
such  an  examination  alone,  that,  in  an  inquisitive  age  like  the 
present,  can  secure  a  philosopher  from  the  danger  of  unlimited 
scepticism.  To  this  extreme,  indeed,  the  complexion  of  the 
times  is  more  likely  to  give  him  a  tendency,  than  to  implicit 
credulity.  In  the  former  ages  of  ignorance  and  superstition, 
the  intimate  association  which  had  been  formed  in  the  prevail- 
ing systems  of  education,  between  truth  and  error  had  given  to 


58 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  latter  an  ascendant  over  the  minds  of  men,  which  it  could 
never  have  acquired  if  divested  of  such  an  alliance.  The  case 
has,  of  late  years,  been  most  remarkably  reversed  :  the  common 
sense  of  mankind,  in  consequence  of  the  growth  of  a  more  lib- 
eral spirit  of  inquiry,  has  revolted  against  many  of  those  ab- 
surdities which  had  so  long  held  human  reason  in  captivity ; 
and  it  was,  perhaps,  more  than  could  have  been  reasonably 
expected,  that,  in  the  first  moments  of  their  emancipation, 
philosophers  should  have  stopped  short  at  the  precise  boundary 
which  cooler  reflection  and  more  moderate  views  would  have 
prescribed.  The  fact  is,  that  they  have  passed  far  beyond  it ; 
and  that,  in  their  zeal  to  destroy  prejudices,  they  have  attempted 
to  tear  up  by  the  roots  many  of  the  best  and  happiest  and  most 

essential  principles  of  our  nature In  the  midst  of  these 

contrary  impulses  of  fashionable  and  vulgar  prejudices,  he  alone 
evinces  the  superiority  and  the  strength  of  his  mind,  who  is  able 
to  disentangle  truth  from  error  ;  and  to  oppose  the  clear  conclu- 
sions of  his  own  unbiased  faculties  to  the  united  clamors  of 
superstition  and  of  false  philosophy.  Such  are  the  men  whom 
nature  marks  out  to  be  the  hghts  of  the  world ;  to  fix  the  wa- 
vering opinions  of  the  multitude,  and  to  impress  their  own  char- 
acters on  that  of  their  age."  In  a  word,  philosophy  is,  as 
Aristotle  has  justly  expressed,  not  the  art  of  doubting,  but  the 
art  of  doubting  well. 

Subjugation  of  the  passions.  —  In  the  second  place,  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  precept  of  Socrates,  the  passions,  under  which  we 
shall  include  sloth,  ought  to  be  subjugated.  These  ruffle  the 
tranquillity  of  the  mind,  and  consequently  deprive  it  of  the  power 
of  carefully  considering  all  tliat  the  solution  of  a  question  re- 
quires should  be  examined.  A  man  under  the  agitation  of  any 
lively  emotion,  is  hardly  aware  of  aught  but  what  has  immediate 
relation  to  the  passion  which  agitates  and  engrosses  him.  Among 
the  affections  which  influence  the  will,  and  induce  it  to  adhere 
to  scepticism  or  error,  there  is  none  more  dangerous  than  sloth. 
The  greater  proportion  of  mankind  are  inclined  to  spare  them- 
selves the  trouble  of  a  long  and  laborious  inquiry ;  or  they 
fancy  that  a  superficial  examination  is  enough ;  and  the  slightest 


THE  DISPOSITIONS  PROPER  TO  PHILOSOPHY. 


59 


agreement  between  a  few  objects,  in  a  few  petty  points,  they  at 
once  assume  as  evmcing  the  correspondence  of  the  whole 
throughout.  Others  apply  themselves  exclusively  to  the  mat- 
ters which  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for  them  to  know,  and  take 
no  account  of  any  opinion  but  that  which  they  have  stumbled 
on,  —  for  no  other  reason  than  that  they  have  embraced  it,  and 
are  unwilling  to  recommence  the  labor  of  learning.  They  re- 
ceive their  opinion  on  the  authority  of  those  who  have  had 
suggested  to  them  their  own  ;  and  they  ai*e  always  facile  schol- 
ars, for  the  slightest  probability  is,  for  them,  all  the  evidence 
that  they  require. 

Pride  is  a  powerful  impediment  to  a  progress  in  knowledge. 
Under  the  influence  of  this  passion,  men  seek  honor,  but  not 
truth.     They  do  not  cultivate  what  is  most  valuable  in  reality, 
but  what  is  most  valuable  in  opinion.     They  disdain,  perhaps, 
what  can  be  easily  accomphshed,  and  apply  themselves  to  the 
obscure  and  recondite  ;  but  as  the  vulgar  and  easy  is  the  foun- 
dation on  which  the  rare  and  arduous  is  built,  they  fail  even  in 
attaining  the  object  of  their  ambition,  and  remain  with  only  a 
farrago  of  confused  and  ill-assorted  notions.     In  all  its  phases, 
self-love  is  an  enemy  to  philosophical  progi*ess ;  and  the  history 
of  philosophy  is  filled  with  the  illusions  of  which  it  has  been  the 
source.     On  the  one  side,  it  has  led  men  to  close  their  eyes 
against  the  most  evident  truths  which  were  not  in  hannony  with 
their  adopted  opinions.     It  is  said  that  there  was  not  a  physician 
in  Europe,  above  the  age  of  forty,  who  would  admit  Harvey's 
discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood.     On  the  other  hand,  it 
is  finely  observed  by  Bacon,  that  "  the  eye  of  human  intellect  is 
not  dry,  but  receives  a  suflTusion  from  the  will  and  from  the 
affections,  so  that  it  may  almost  be  said  to  engender  any  science 
it  pleases.     For  what  a  man  wishes  to  be  true,  that  he  prefers 
beUeving."     And,  in  another  place,  "  if  the  human  intellect  hath 
once  taken  a  liking  to  any  doctrine,  either  because  received  and 
credited,  or  because  otherwise  pleasing,  —  it  draws  every  thing 
else  into  hai*mony  with  that  doctrine,  and  to  its  support ;  and 
albeit  there  may  be  found  a  more  powerful  array  of  contra- 
dictory instances,  these,  however,  it  either  does  not  observe,  or 
it  contemns,  or  by  distinction  extenuates  and  rejects." 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


61 


CHAPTER    lY. 

THE   METHOD    OF    PHILOSOPHY. 

There  is  only  one  possible  method  in  philosophy ;  and  what 
have  been  called  the  different  methods  of  different  philosophers, 
vary  from  each  other  only  as  more  or  less  perfect  applications 
of  this  one  Method  to  the  objects  of  knowledge. 

What  is  Method?  —  All  method  is  a  rational  progress,  — a 
progress  towards  an  end  ;  and  the  method  of  philosophy  is  the 
procedure   conducive  to  the  end  which   philosophy  proposes. 
The  ends,  — the  final  causes  of  philosophy,  —  as  we  have  seen, 
are   two;    first,   the   discovery   of  efficient   causes;    secondly, 
the  generalization  of  our  knowledge  into  unity  ;  —  two  ends, 
however,  which  fall  together  into  one,  inasmuch  as  the  higher 
we  proceed  in  the  discovery  of  causes,  we  necessarily  approxi- 
mate more  and  more  to  unity.     The  detection  of  the  one  in  the 
many  might,  therefore,  be  laid  down  as  the  end  to  which  philos- 
ophy, though  it  can  never  reach  it,  tends  continually  to  approx- 
imate.    But,  considering  pliilosophy  in  relation  to  both  these 
ends,  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you  that  it  has  only  one  possible 

method. 

But  one  method  in  relation  to  the  first  end  of  Philosophy.  — 
Considering  philosophy,  in  the  first  place,  in  relation  to  its  first 
end,  —  the  discovery  of  causes,  —  we  have  seen  that  causes 
(taking  that  term  as  synonymous  for  all  without  which  the 
effect  would  not  be)  are  only  the  coefficients  of  the  effect ;  an 
effect  being  nothing  more  than  the  sum  or  complement  of  all  the 
l)artial  causes,  the  concurrence  of  which  constitute  its  existence. 
This  being  the  case,  —  and  as  it  is  only  by  experience  that  we 
discover  what  particular  causes  must  conspire  in  order  to  pro- 
(60) 


duce  such  or  such  an  effect,  —  it  follows,  that  nothing  can  be- 
come known  to  us  as  a  cause  except  in  and  through  its  effect ; 
in  other  words,  that  we  can  only  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  a 
cause  by  extracting  it  out  of  its  effect.  To  take  the  example, 
we  formerly  employed,  of  a  neutral  salt.  This,  as  I  observed, 
was  made  up  by  the  conjunction  of  three  proximate  causes,  — 
namely,  an  acid,  —  an  alkali,  —  and  the  force  which  brought  the 
alkali  and  the  acid  into  the  requisite  approximation.  This  last, 
as  a  transitory  condition,  and  not  always  the  same,  we  shall 
throw  out  of  account.  Now,  though  we  might  know  the  acid 
and  the  alkali  in  themselves  as  distinct  phoenomena,  we  could 
never  know  them  as  the  concurrent  causes  of  the  salt,  unless  we 
had  known  the  salt  as  their  effect.  And  though,  in  this  ex- 
ample, it  happens  that  we  are  able  to  compose  the  effect  by  the 
union  of  its  causes,  and  to  decompose  it  by  their  separa- 
tion, —  this  is  only  an  accidental  circumstance  ;  for  the  far 
gi-eater  number  of  the  objects  presented  to  our  observation  can 
only  be  decomposed,  but  not  actually  recomposed ;  and  in  those 
which  can  be  recomposed,  this  possibility  is  itself  only  the  result 
of  a  knowledge  of  the  causes  previously  obtained  by  an  original 
decomposition  of  the  effect. 

This  method  is  hy  Analysis  and  Synthesis.  —  Li  so  far,  there- 
fore, as  philosophy  is  the  research  of  causes,  the  one  necessary 
condition  of  its  possibility  is  the  decomposition  of  effects  into 
their  constituted  causes.  This  is  the  fundamental  procedure  of 
philosophy,  and  is  called  by  a  Greek  term  Analysis.  But 
though  analysis  be  the  fundamental  procedure,  it  is  still  o?ily  a 
mean  towards  an  end.  We  analyze  only  that  we  may  compre- 
hend ;  and  we  comprehend  only  inasmuch  as  we  are  able  to 
reconstruct,  in  thought,  the  complex  effects  which  we  have 
analyzed  into  their  elements.  This  mental  reconstruction  is, 
therefore,  the  final,  the  consummative  procedure  of  philosophy, 
and  it  is  familiarly  known  by  the  Greek  term  Synthesis.  Analy- 
sis and  synthesis,  though  commonly  treated  as  two  different 
methods,  are,  if  properly  understood,  only  the  two  necessaiy 
parts  of  the  same  method.  Each  is  the  relative  and  the  correl- 
ative of  the  other.     Analysis,  without  a  subsequent  synthesis,  is 

6 


62 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


incomplete  ;  it  is  a  mean  cut  off  from  its  end.  Synthesis,  with- 
out a  previous  analysis,  is  baseless  ;  for  synthesis  receives  from 
analysis  the  elements  which  it  recomposes.  And,  as  synthesis 
supposes  analysis  as  the  prerequisite  of  its  possibility,  —  so  it  is 
also  dependent  on  analysis  for  Ihe  quaUties  of  its  existence. 
The  value  of  every  synthesis  depends  upon  the  value  of  the 
foregoing  analysis.  If  the  precedent  analysis  afford  false  ele- 
ments, the  subsequent  synthesis  of  these  elements  will  necessa- 
rily afford  a  false  result.  If  the  elements  furnished  by  analysis 
are  assumed,  and  not  really  discovered,  —  in  other  words,  if 
they  be  hypothetical,  the  synthesis  of  these  hypothetical  ele- 
ments will  constitute  only  a  conjectural  theory.  The  legiti- 
macy of  every  synthesis  is  thus  necessarily  dependent  on  the 
legitimacy  of  the  analysis  which  it  presupposes,  and  on  which 

it  founds. 

These  two  relative  procedures  are  thus  equally  necessary  to 
each  other.  On  the  one  hand,  analysis  without  synthesis 
affords  only  a  commenced,  only  an  incomplete,  knowledge.  On 
the  other,  synthesis  without  analysis  is  a  false  knowledge,  — 
that  is,  no  knowledge  at  all.  Both,  therefore,  are  absolutely 
necessary  to  philosophy,  and  both  are,  in  philosophy,  as  much 
parts  of  the  same  method  as,  in  the  animal  body,  inspiration 
and  expiration  are  of  the  same  vital  function.  But  though 
these  operations  are  each  requisite  to  the  other,  yet  were  we  to 
distinguish  and  compare  what  ought  only  to  be  considered  as 
conjoined,  it  is  to  analysis  that  the  preference  must  be  accorded. 
An  analysis  is  always  valuable  ;  for  though  now  without  a  syn- 
thesis, this  synthesis  may  at  any  time  be  added;  whereas  a 
synthesis  without  a  previous  analysis  is  radically  and  ab  initio 

nuU. 

So  far,  therefore,  as  regards  the  first  end  of  philosophy,  or 
the  discovery  of  causes,  it  appears  that  there  is  only  one  possi- 
ble method,  —  that  method  of  which  analysis  is  the  foundation, 
synthesis  the  completion.  In  the  second  place,  considering  phi- 
losophy in  relation  to  its  second  end,  the  carrying  up  our 
knowledge  into  unity,  —  the  same  is  equally  apparent. 

Only  one  method  in  relation  to  the  second  end  of  Philoso- 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


63 


pjiy,  —  Every  thing  presented  to  our  observation,  whether 
external  or  internal,  whether  through  sense  or  self-conscious- 
ness, is  presented  in  complexity.  Through  sense,  the  objects 
crowd  upon  the  mind  in  multitudes,  and  each  separate  indi- 
vidual of  these  multitudes  is  itself  a  congeries  of  many  various 
quaUties.  The  same  is  the  case  with  the  phgenomena  of  self- 
consciousness.  Every  modification  of  mind  is  a  complex  state ; 
and  the  different  elements  of  each  state  manifest  themselves 
only  in  and  through  each  other.  Thus,  nothing  but  multiplicity 
is  ever  presented  to  our  observation  ;  and  yet  our  faculties  are 
so  hmited  that  they  are  able  to  comprehend  at  once  only  the 
very  simplest  conjunctions.  There  seems,  therefore,  a  singular 
disproportion  between  our  powers  of  knowledge  and  the  objects 
to  be  known.  How  is  the  equiUbrium  to  be  restored  ?  This  is 
the  great  problem  proposed  by  nature,  and  which  analysis  and 
synthesis,  in  combination,  enable  us  to  solve.  For  example,  I 
perceive  a  tree,  among  other  objects  of  an  extensive  landscape, 
and  I  wish  to  obtain  a  full  and  distinct  conception  of  that  tree. 
What  ought  I  to  do  ?  Divide  et  impera  :  I  must  attend  to  it  by 
itself,  that  is,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other  constituents  of  the 
scene  before  me.  I  thus  analyze  that  scene  ;  I  separate  a  petty 
portion  of  it  from  the  rest,  in  order  to  consider  that  portion  apart. 
But  this  is  not  enough,  the  tree  itself  is  not  a  unity,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  a  complex  assemblage  of  elements,  far  beyond  what 
my  powers  can  master  at  once.  I  must  carry  my  analysis  still 
further.  Accordingly,  I  consider  successively  its  height,  its 
breadth,  its  shape  ;  I  then  proceed  to  its  trunk,  rise  from  that  to 
its  branches,  and  follow  out  its  different  ramifications ;  I  now 
fix  my  attention  on  the  leaves,  and  severally  examine  their 
form,  color,  etc.  It  is  only  after  having  thus,  by  analysis,  de- 
tached all  these  parts,  in  order  to  deal  with  them  one  by  one, 
that  I  am  able,  by  reversing  the  process,  fully  to  comprehend 
them  again  in  a  series  of  synthetic  acts.  By  synthesis,  rising 
from  the  ultimate  analysis,  step  by  step,  I  view  the  parts  in 
relation  to  each  other,  and,  finally,  to  the  whole  of  which  they 
are  the  constituents ;  I  reconstruct  them  ;  and  it  is  only  through 
these  two  counter-processes  of  analysis  and  synthesis,  that  I  am 


64 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


able  to  convert  the  confused  perception  of  the  tree,  which  I 
obtained  at  first  sight,  into  a  clear,  and  distinct,  and  comprehen- 
sive knowledge. 

How  a  multitude  is  reduced  to  unity.  —  But  if  analysis  and 
synthesis  be  required  to  afford  us  a  perfect  knowledge  even  of  one 
individual  object  of  sense,  still  more  are  they  required  to  enable 
the  mind  to  reduce  an  indefinite  multitude  of  objects, —  the  infin- 
itude, we  may  say,  of  nature,  —  to  the  limits  of  its  own  finite  com- 
prehension. To  accomplish  tliis,  it  is  requisite  to  extract  the  one 
out  of  the  many,  and  thus  to  recall  multitude  to  unity,  —  confu- 
sion to  order.  And  how  is  this  performed  ?  The  one  in  the 
many  being  that  in  which  a  plurality  of  objects  agree,  —  or  that  in 
which  they  may  be  considered  as  the  same  ;  and  the  agreement 
of  objects  in  any  common  quality  being  discoverable  only  by 
an  observation  and  comparison  of  the  objects  themselves,  it  fol- 
lows that  a  knowledge  of  the  one  can  only  be  evolved  out  of  a 
foregoing  knowledge  of  the  many.  But  this  evolution  can  only 
be  accomplished  by  an  analysis  and  a  synthesis.  By  analysis, 
from  the  infinity  of  objects  presented  to  our  observation,  we 
select  some.  These  we  consider  apart,  and,  further,  only  in 
certain  points  of  view,  —  and  we  compare  these  objects  with 
others  also  considered  in  the  same  points  of  view.  So  far  the 
procedure  is  analytic.  Having  discovered,  however,  by  this 
observation  and  comparison,  that  certain  objects  agree  in  cer- 
tain respects,  we  generalize  the  qualities  in  which  they  coincide, 
—  that  is,  from  a  certain  number  of  individual  instances  we 
infer  a  general  law  ;  we  perform  what  is  called  an  act  of  In- 
duction. 

What  is  Induction  ?  —  This  induction  is  erroneously  viewed 
as  analytic ;  it  is  purely  a  synthetic  process.  For  example, 
from  our  experience,  —  and  all  experience,  be  it  that  of  the 
individual  or  of  mankind,  is  only  finite,  —  from  our  limited  ex- 
perience, I  say,  that  bodies,  as  observed  by  us^  attract  each 
other,  we  infer  by  induction  the  unlimited  conclusion  that  all 
bodies  gravitate  towards  each  other.  Now,  here  the  consequent 
contains  much  more  than  was  contained  in  the  antecedent. 
Experience,  the  antecedent,  only  says,  and  only  can  say,  this, 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


65 


that,  and  the  other  body  gi'a\atate  (that  is,  some  bodies  gravi- 
tate) ;  the  consequent  educed  from  that  antecedent,  says,  —  all 
bodies  gravitate.  The  antecedent  is  limited,  —  the  consequent 
unlimited.  Something,  therefore,  has  been  added  to  the  antecedent 
in  order  to  legitimate  the  inference,  if  we  are  not  to  hold  the 
consequent  itself  as  absurd ;  for,  as  you  will  hereafter  learn,  no 
conclusion  must  contain  more  than  was  contained  in  the  prem- 
ises from  which  it  is  drawn.  What  then  is  the  something  f  If 
we  consider  the  inductive  process,  this  will  be  at  once  apparent. 

The  affirmation,  this,  that,  and  the  other  body  gravitate,  is 
connected  with  the  affirmation,  all  bodies  gravitate,  only  by  in- 
serting between  the  two  a  third  affirmation,  by  which  the  two 
other  affirmations  are  connected  into  reason  and  consequent,  — 
that  is,  into  a  logical  cause  and  effect.  What  that  is  I  shall 
explain.  All  scientific  induction  is  founded  on  the  presumption 
that  nature  is  uniform  in  her  operations.  Of  the  ground  and 
origin  of  this  presumption,  I  am  not  now  to  speak.  I  shall  only 
say,  that,  as  it  is  a  principle  which  we  suppose  in  all  our  induc- 
tions, it  cannot  be  itself  a  product  of  induction.  It  is,  therefore, 
interpolated  in  the  inductive  reasoning  by  the  mind  itself.  In 
our  example  the  reasoning  will,  accordingly,  run  as  follows  :  — 

This,  that,  and  the  other  body  (some  bodies)  are  observed  to 

gravitate ; 

But  (as  nature  is  uniform  in  her  operations)  this,  that,  and 
the  other  body  (some  bodies)  represent  all  bodies ; 

Therefore,  all  bodies  gravitate. 

Now,  in  this  and  other  examples  of  induction,  it  is  the  mind 
which  binds  up  the  separate  substances  observed  and  collected 
into  a  whole,  and  converts  what  is  only  the  observation  of  many 
particulars  into  a  universal  law.     This  procedure  is  manifestly 

synthetic. 

Now,  you  will  remark  that  analysis  and  synthesis  are  here 
absolutely  dependent  on  each  other.  The  previous  observation 
and  comparison,  —  the  analytic  foundation,  —  are  only  instituted 
for  the  sake  of  the  subsequent  induction,  —  the  synthetic  con- 
summation. What  boots  it  to  observe  and  to  compare,  if  the 
uniformities  we  discover  among  objects  are  never  generahzed 

6* 


66 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


into  laws  ?  We  have  obtained  an  historical,  but  not  a  pliilo- 
sophical  knowledge.  Here,  therefore,  analysis  without  synthesis 
is  incomplete.  On  the  other  hand,  an  induction  which  does  not 
proceed  upon  a  competent  enumeration  of  particulars,  is  either 
doubtful,  improbable,  or  null ;  for  all  synthesis  is  dependent  on 
a  foregone  analysis  for  whatever  degree  of  certainty  it  may 
pretend  to.  Thus,  considering  philosophy  in  relation  to  its 
second  end,  unity  or  system,  it  is  manifest  that  the  method  by 
which  it  accomplishes  that  end,  is  a  method  involving  both  an 
analytic  and  a  synthetic  process. 

Now,  as  philosophy  has  only  one  possible  method,  so  the  his- 
tory of  philosophy  only  manifests  the  conditions  of  this  one 
method,  more  or  less  accurately  fulfilled.  There  are  aberra- 
tions in  the  method,  —  no  aberrations  from  it. 

Earliest  problem  of  philosophy,  —  "  Philosophy,"  says  Grc- 
ruzez,  "  commenced  with  the  first  act  of  reflection  on  the  objects 
of  sense  or  self-consciousness,  for  the  purpose  of  explaining 
them.  And  with  that  first  act  of  reflection,  the  method  of  phi- 
losophy began,  in  its  application  of  an  analysis,  and  in  its  appU- 
cation  of  a  synthesis,  to  its  object.  The  first  philosophers 
naturally  endeavored  to  explain  the  enigma  of  external  nature. 
The  magnificent  spectacle  of  the  material  universe,  and  the 
marvellous  demonstrations  of  power  and  wisdom  which  it  every- 
where exhibited,  were  the  objects  which  called  forth  the  earliest 
efforts  of  speculation.  Philosophy  was  thus,  at  its  commence- 
ment, physical,  not  psychological ;  it  was  not  the  problem  of 
the  soul,  but  the  problem  of  the  world,  which  it  first  attempted 
to  solve. 

"  And  what  was  the  procedure  of  philosophy  in  its  solution 
of  this  problem?  Did  it  first  decompose  the  whole  into  its 
parts,  in  order  again  to  reconstruct  them  into  a  system  ?  This 
it  could  not  accomplish  ;  but  still  it  attempted  this,  and  nothing 
else.  A  complete  analysis  was  not  to  be  expected  from  the 
first  efforts  of  intelUgence ;  its  decompositions  were  necessarily 
partial  aud  im})erfect ;  a  partial  and  imperfect  analysis  afforded 
only  hypothetical  elements  ;  and  the  synthesis  of  these  elements 
issued,  consequently,  only  in  a  one-sided  or  erroneous  theory. 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


67 


Thales  and  the  Ionic  School.  —  "  Thales,  the  founder  of  the 
Ionian  philosophy,  devoted  an  especial  study  to  the  phrenomena 
of  the  material  universe ;  and,  struck  with  the  appearances  of 
power  which  water  manifested  in  the  formation  of  bodies,  he 
analyzed  all  existences  into  this  element,  which  he  viewed  as 
the  universal  principle,  —  the  universal  agent  of  creation.  He 
proceeded  by  an  incomplete  analysis,  and  generalized,  by  hy- 
pothesis, the  law  which  he  drew  by  induction  from  the  observa- 
tion of  a  small  series  of  phaenomena. 

"  The  Ionic  school  continued  in  the  same  path.  They  limited 
themselves  to  the  study  of  external  nature,  and  sought  m  mat- 
ter the  principle  of  existence.  Anaximander  of  Miletus,  the 
countryman  and  disciple  of  Thales,  deemed  that  he  had  traced 
the  primary  cause  of  creation  to  an  ethereal  principle,  which 
occupied  space,  and  whose  different  combinations  constituted  the 
universe  of  matter.  Anaximenes  found  the  original  element  in 
au",  from  which,  by  rarefaction  and  condensation,  he  educed  ex- 
istences. Anaxagoras  carried  his  analysis  further,  and  made  a 
more  discreet  use  of  hypothesis ;  he  rose  to  the  conception  of 
an  intelhgent  first  cause,  distinct  from  the  phaenomena  of  na- 
ture ;  and  his  notion  of  the  Deity  was  so  far  above  the  gross  con- 
ceptions of  his  contemporaries,  that  he  was  accused  of  atheism. 

Pythagoras  and  the  Italic  School.  —  "  Pythagoras,  the  founder 
of  the  Italic  school,  analyzed  the  properties  of  number ;  and 
the  relations  which  this  analysis  revealed,  he  elevated  into 
principles  of  the  mental  and  material  universe.  Mathematics 
were  his  only  objects ;  his  analysis  was  partial,  and  his  synthe- 
sis was  consequently  hypothetical.  The  Italic  school  developed 
the  notions  of  Pythagoras,  and,  exclusively  preoccupied  with 
the  relations  and  harmonies  of  existence,  its  disciples  did  not 
extend  their  speculation  to  the  consideration  either  of  substance 
or  of  cause. 

''  Thus,  these  earlier  schools,  taking  external  nature  for  their 
point  of  departure,  proceeded  by  an  imperfect  analysis,  and  a 
presumptuous  synthesis,  to  the  construction  of  exclusive  sys- 
tems,—  in  which  Idealism  or  Materialism  preponderated,  ac- 
cording to  the  kind  of  data  on  which  they  founded. 


68 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


69 


"  The  Eleatic  school,  which  is  distinguished  into  two  branches, 
the  one  of  Physical,  the  other  of  Metaphysical,  speculation,  ex- 
hibits the  same  character,  the  same  point  of  departure,  the 
same  tendency,  and  the  same  errors. 

.  "  These  errors  led  to  the  scepticism  of  the  Sophists,  which 
was  assailed  by  Socrates,  —  the  sage  who  determined  a  new 
epoch  in  philosophy  by  directing  observation  on  man  himself; 
and  henceforward  the  study  of  mind  becomes  the  prime  and  cen- 
tral science  of  philosophy. 

"  The  point  of  departure  was  changed,  but  not  the  method. 
The  observation  or  analysis  of  the  human  mind,  though  often 
profound,  remained  always  incomplete.  Fortunately,  the  first 
disciples  of  Socrates,  imitating  the  prudence  of  their  master, 
and  warned  by  the  downftiU  of  the  systems  of  the  Ionic,  Itahc, 
and  Eleatic  schools,  made  a  sparing  use  of  synthesis,  and 
hardly  a  pretension  to  system. 

"  Plato  and  Aristotle  directed  their  observation  on  the  phae- 
nomena  of  intelligence,  and  we  cannot  too  highly  admire  the 
profundity  of  their  analysis,  and  even  the  sobriety  of  their  syn- 
thesis. Plato  devoted  himself  more  particularly  to  the  higher 
faculties  of  intelligence  ;  and  his  disciples  were  led,  by  the  love 
of  generalization,  to  regard  as  the  intellectual  whole  those  por- 
tions of  intelligence  which  their  master  had  analyzed  ;  and  this 
exclusive  spirit  gave  birth  to  systems  false,  not  in  themselves, 
but  as  resting  upon  a  too  narrow  basis.  Aristotle,  on  the  other 
hand,  whose  genius  was  of  a  more  positive  character,  analyzed 
with  admirable  acuteness  those  operations  of  mind  which  stand 
in  more  immediate  relation  to  the  senses  ;  and  this  tendency, 
which  among  his  followers  became  often  exclusive  and  exag- 
gerated, naturally  engendered  systems  which  more  or  less 
tended  to  materialism." 

School  of  Alexandria.—- The  school  of  Alexandria,  in  which 
the  systems  resulting  from  those  opposite  tendencies  were  com- 
bined, endeavored  to  reconcile  and  to  fuse  them  into  a  still 
more  comprehensive  system.  Eclecticism,  —  conciliation,  — 
union,  were,  in  all  things,  the  grand  aim  of  the  Alexandrian 
school.     Geographically  situated  between  Greece  and  Asia,  it 


endeavored  to  ally  Greek  with  Asiatic  genius,  religion  with  phi- 
losophy. Hence  the  Neoplatonic  system,  of  which  the  last 
great  representative  is  Proclus.  This  system  is  the  result  of 
the  long  labor  of  the  Socratic  schools.  It  is  an  edifice  reared 
by  synthesis  out  of  the  materials  which  analysis  had  col- 
lected, proved,  and  accumulated,  from  Socrates  down  to  Plo- 

tinus. 

But  a  synthesis  is  of  no  greater  value  than  its  relative  analy- 
sis ;  and  as  the  analysis  of  the  earlier  Greek  philosophy  was 
not  complete,  the  synthesis  of  the  Alexandrian  school  was 
necessarily  imperfect. 

In  the  Scholastic  philosophy,  analysis  and  observation  were 
too  often  neglected  in  some  departments  of  philosophy,  and  too 
often  carried  rashly  to  excess  in  others. 

Bacon  and  Descartes.  —  Miev  the  revival  of  letters,  during 
the  ^fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  the  labors  of  philosophy 
were   principally   occupied    in   restoring   and   illustrating   the 
Greek  systems ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  seventeenth  century, 
that  a  new  epoch  was  determined  by  the  genius  of  Bacon  and 
Descartes.     In  Bacon  and  Descartes  our  modern  philosophy 
may  be  said  to  originate,  inasmuch  as  they  were  the  first  who 
made  the  doctrine  of  method  a  principal  object  of  considera- 
tion.    They  both  proclaimed,  that,  for  the  attainment  of  scien- 
tific knowledge,  it  is  necessary  to  observe  with  care,  —  that  is, 
to  analyze ;  to  reject  every  element  as  hypothetical,  which  this 
analysis  does  not  spontaneously  afford  ;  to  call  in  experiment  in 
aid  of  observation;  and  to  attempt  no  synthesis  or  generaliza- 
tion, until  the   relative  analysis  has  been  completely  accom- 
plished.   They  showed  that  previous  philosophers  had  erred,  not 
by  rejecting  either  analysis  or  synthesis,  but  by  hurrying  on  to 
synthetic  induction  from  a  limited  or  specious  analytic  observa- 
tion.    They  propounded  no  new  method  of  philosophy,  they 
only  expounded  the  conditions  of  the  old.     They  showed  that 
these  conditions  had  rarely  been  fulfilled  by  philosophers  in 
time  past;  and  exhorted  them  to  their  fulfilment  in  time  to 
come.    Thus  they  explained  the  petty  progress  of  the  past 
philosophy ;  —  and  justly  anticipated  a  gigantic  advancement  for 


70 


THE  METHOD  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


the  future.  Such  was  their  precept,  but  such  unfortunately 
was  not  their  example.  There  are  no  philosophers  who  merit 
so  much  in  the  one  respect,  none,  perhaps,  who  deserve  less  in 
the  other. 

Of  philosophy  since  Bacon  and  Descartes,  we  at  present  say 
nothing.  Of  that  we  shall  hereafter  have  frequent  occasion  to 
speak.  But  to  sum  up  what  this  historical  sketch  was  intended 
to  illustrate.  There  is  but  one  possible  method  of  philoso- 
phy^  —  a  combination  of  analysis  and  synthesis  ;  and  the  purity 
arid  equilibrium  of  these  two  elements  constitute  its  perfection. 
The  aberrations  of  philosophy  have  been  all  so  many  viola- 
tions of  the  laws  of  this  one  method.  Philosophy  has  erred, 
because  it  built  its  systems  upon  incomplete  or  erroneous  analy- 
sis, and  it  can  only  proceed  in  safety,  if  from  accurate  and 
unexclusive  observation,  it  rise,  by  successive  generalization,  to 
a  comprehensive  system. 


CHAPTER   V. 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


Expediency  of  a  division  of  Philosophy.  —  As  we  cannot 
survey  the  universe  at  a  glance,  neither  can  we  contemplate 
the  whole  of  philosophy  in  one  act  of  consciousness.  We  can 
only  master  it  gradually  and  piecemeal ;  and  this  is  in  fact  the 
reason  why  philosophers  have  always  distributed  their  science 
(constituting,  though  it  does,  one  organic  whole)  into  a  plurality 
of  sciences.  The  expediency,  and  even  necessity,  of  a  division 
of  philosophy,  in  order  that  the  mind  may  be  enabled  to  em-^ 
brace  in  one  general  view  its  various  parts,  in  their  relation  to 
each  other,  and  to  the  whole  which  they  constitute,  is  admitted 
by  every  philosopher.  "  Res  utiUs,"  continues  Seneca,  "  et  ad 
sapientiam  properanti  utique  necessaria,  dividi  philosophiam,  et 
ingens  corpus  ejus  in  membra  disponi.  Facilius  enim  per 
partes  in  cognitionem  totius  adducimur." 

But,  although  philosophers  agree  in  regard  to  the  utility  of 
such  a  distribution,  they  are  almost  as  little  at  one  in  regard  to 
the  parts,  as  they  are  in  respect  to  the  definition,  of  their  sci- 
ence ;  and,  indeed,  their  differences  in  reference  to  the  former, 
mainly  arise  from  their  discrepancies  m  reference  to  the  latter. 
For  they  who  vary  in  their  comprehension  of  the  whole,  cannot 
agree  in  their  division  of  the  parts. 

Division  into  Theoretical  and  Practical.  —  The  most  ancient 

and  universally  recognized  distinction  of   philosophy,  is   into 

Theoretical  and  Practical.      These  are  discriminated  by  the 

different  nature   of   their   ends.     Theoretical,    called   likewise 

speculative  and  contemplative,  philosophy  has   for  its  highest 

end  mere  truth  or  knowledge.      Practical  philosophy,  on  the 

other  hand,  has  truth  or  knowledge  only  as  its  proximate  end, 

(71) 


72 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


—  this  end  being  subordinate  to  the  ulterior  end  of  some  prac- 
tical action.  In  theoretical  philosophy,  we  know  for  the  sake 
of  knowing,  scimus  ut  sciamus :  in  practical  philosophy,  we 
know  for  the  sake  of  acting,  scimus  ut  operemur.  I  may  here 
notice  the  poverty  of  the  English  language,  in  the  want  of  a 
word  to  express  that  practical  activity  which  is  contradistin- 
guished from  mere  intellectual  or  speculative  energy,  —  what 
the  Greeks  express  by  TtQciaceiv,  the  Germans  by  handeln.  The 
want  of  such  a  word  occasions  frequent  ambiguity ;  for,  to  ex- 
press the  species  which  has  no  appropriate  word,  we  are  com- 
pelled to  employ  the  generic  term  active.  Thus  our  philosophers 
divide  the  powers  of  the  mind  into  Intellectual  and  Active. 
They  do  not,  however,  thereby  mean  to  insinuate  that  the 
powers  called  intellectual  are  a  whit  less  energetic  than  those 
specially  denominated  active.  But,  from  the  want  of  a  better 
word,  they  are  compelled  to  employ  a  term  which  denotes  at 
once  much  more  and  much  less  than  they  are  desirous  of  ex- 
pressing. I  ought  to  observe,  that  the  term  practical  has  also 
obtained  with  us  certain  collateral  significations,  which  render 
it  in  some  respects  unfit  to  supply  the  want.     But  to  return. 

This  distinction  of  Theoretical  and  Practical  philosophy  was 
first  explicitly  enounced  by  Aristotle ;  and  the  attempts  of  the 
later  Platonists  to  carry  it  up  to  Phito,  and  even  to  Pythagoras, 
are  not  worthy  of  statement,  far  less  of  refutation.  Once  pro- 
mulgated, the  division  was,  however,  soon  generally  recognized. 
The  Stoics  borrowed  it,  as  may  be  seen,  from  Seneca  :  —  "  Plii- 
losophia  et  contemplativa  est  et  activa ;  spectat,  simulque  agit." 
It  was  also  adopted  by  the  Epicureans ;  and,  in  general,  by 
those  Greek  and  Roman  philosophers  who  viewed  their  science 
as  versant  either  in  the  contemplation  of  nature  {(pvamj),  or  in 
the  regulation  of  human  action  (jji^txij)  ;  foi-  by  nature^  they  did 
not  denote  the  material  universe  alone,  but  their  Physics  in- 
cluded Metfipliysics,  and  their  Ethics  embraced  Politics  and 
Economics.  There  was  thus  only  a  difference  of  nomenclature  ; 
for  Physical  and  Theoretical,  —  Ethical  and  Practical  Philos- 
ophy, —  were  with  them  terms  absolutely  equivalent. 

This  division  unsound,  —  I  regard  the  division  of  philosophy 


THE  DIVISIONS   OF   rillLOSOPUY. 


73 


into  Theoretical  and  Practical   as  unsound,  and  this  for  two 
reasons. 

The  first  is,  that  philosophy,  as  philoso])hy,  is  only  cognitive, 
—  only  theoretical ;  whatever  lies  beyond  the  sphere  of  specu- 
lation or  knowledge,  transcends  the  sphere  of  philosophy ; 
consequently,  to  divide  philosophy  by  tmy  quality  ulterior  to 
speculation,  is  to  divide  it  by  a  difference  which  does  not  be- 
long to  it.  Now,  the  distinction  of  practical  philosophy  from 
theoretical  commits  this  error.  For,  while  it  is  admitted  that 
all  ])liilosophy,  as  cognitive,  is  theoretical,  some  philosophy  is 
again  taken  out  of  this  category,  on  the  ground,  that,  beyond  the 
mere  theory,  —  the  mere  cognition,  —  it  has  an  ulterior  end  in 
its  application  to  practice. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  this  difference,  even  were  it  admis- 
sible, would  not  divide  philosophy ;  for,  in  point  of  fact,  all 
philosophy  must  be  regarded  as  practical,  inasmuch  as  mere 
knowledge,  —  that  is,  the  mere  possession  of  truth,  —  is  not  the 
highest  end  of  any  philosophy ;  but  on  the  contrary,  all  truth  or 
knowledge  is  valuable  only  inasmuch  as  it  determines  the  mind 
to  its  contemplation,  —  that  is,  to  practical  energy.  Speculation, 
therefore,  inasmuch  as  it  is  not  a  negation  of  thought,  but  on 
the  contrary,  the  highest  energy  of  intellect,  is,  in  point  of  fact, 
preeminently  practical.  The  practice  of  one  branch  of  philos- 
ophy is,  indeed,  different  from  that  of  another ;  but  all  are  still 
practical;  for  in  none  is  mere  knowledge  the  ultimate,  the 
highest,  end. 

It  is  manifest  that,  in  our  sense  of  the  term  practical,  Logic, 
as  an  instrumental  science,  would  be  comprehended  under  the 
head  of  practical  philosophy. 

I'he  terms  Art  and  Science. — I  shall  take  this  opportunity 

of  explaining  an  anomaly  which  you  will  find  explained  in  no 

work  with  which  I  am  acquainted.     Certain  branches  of  pliilo- 

sophical  knowledge  are  called  Arts,  —  or  Arts  and   Sciences 

indifferently ;    others   are    exclusively    denominated    Sciences. 

Were  this  distinction  coincident  with  the  distinction  of  sciences 

speculative  and  sciences  practical,  —  taking  the  term  practical 

in  its  ordinary  acceptation,  —  there  would  be  no  difficulty ;  for, 

7 


74 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


as  every  practical  science  necessarily  involves  a  theory,  nothing 
could  be  more  natural  than  to  call  the  same  branch  of  knowl- 
edge an  art,  when  viewed  as  relative  to  its  practical  application, 
and  a  science  when  viewed  in  relation  to  the  theory  which  that 
application  supposes.  But  this  is  not  the  case.  The  specula- 
tive sciences,  indeed,  are  never  denominated  arts  ;  we  may, 
therefore,  throw  them  aside.  The  difficulty  is  exclusively  con- 
fined to  the  practical.  Of  these,  some  never  receive  the  name 
of  arts  ;  others  are  called  arts  and  sciences  indifferently.  Thus 
the  sciences  of  Ethics,  Economics,  Politics,  Theology,  etc., 
though  all  practical,  are  never  denominated  arts ;  whereas  this 
appellation  is  very  usually  applied  to  the  practical  sciences  of 
Lojnc,  Rhetoric,  Grammar,  etc. 

That  the  term  art  is  with  us  not  coextensive  with  practical 
science,  is  thus  manifest;  and  yet  these  are  frequently  con- 
founded. Thus,  for  example.  Dr.  Wliately,  in  liis  definition 
of  Logic,  thinks  that  Logic  is  a  science,  in  so  far  as  it  institutes 
an  analysis  of  the  process  of  the  mind  in  reasoning,  and  an  art, 
in  so  far  as  it  affords  practical  rules  to  secure  the  mind  from 
error  in  its  deductions  ;  and  he  defines  an  art,  the  application  of 
knowledge  to  practice.  Now,  if  this  view  were  correct,  art  and 
practical  science  would  be  convertible  terms.  But  that  they 
are  not  employed  as  synonymous  expressions  is,  as  we  have 
seen,  sho^vn  by  the  incongruity  we  feel  in  talking  of  the  art  of 
Ethics,  the  art  of  Religion,  etc.,  though  these  are  eminently 
practical  sciences. 

The  question,  therefore,  still  remains,  Is  this  restriction  of  the 
term  art  to  certain  of  the  practical  sciences  the  result  of  some 
accidental  and  forgotten  usage,  or  is  it  founded  on  any  rational 
principle  which  we  are  able  to  trace  ?  The  former  alternative 
seems  to  be  the  common  belief;  for  no  one,  in  so  far  as  I  know, 
has  endeavored  to  account  for  the  apparently  vague  and  capri- 
cious manner  in  which  the  terms  art  and  science  are  apphed. 
The  latter  alternative,  however,  is  the  true ;  and  I  shall  en- 
deavor to  explain  to  you  the  reason  of  the  appHcation  of  the 
term  art  to  certain  practical  sciences,  and  not  to  others. 

Historical  origin  of  this  use  of  language.  —  You  are  aware 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


75 


that  the  Aristotelic  pliilosophy  was,  for  many  centuries,  not  only 
the  prevalent,  but  during  the  middle  ages,  the  one  exclusive 
philosophy  in  Europe.  This  philosophy  of  the  middle  ages,  or, 
as  it  is  commonly  called,  the  Scholastic  Philosophy,  has  exerted 
the  most  extensive  influence  on  the  languages  of  modern  Eu- 
rope ;  and  from  this  common  source  has  been  principally  derived 
that  community  of  expression  which  these  languages  exhibit. 
Now,  the  peculiar  application  of  the  term  art  was  introduced 
into  the  vulgar  tongues  from  the  scholastic  philosophy  ;  and  was 
borrowed  by  that  philosophy  from  Aristotle.  This  is  only  one 
of  a  thousand  instances,  which  might  be  alleged,  of  the  unfelt 
influence  of  a  single  powerful  mind,  on  the  associations  and 
habits  of  thought  of  generations  to  the  end  of  time ;  and  of 
Aristotle  is  preeminently  true,  what  has  been  so  beautifully  said 
of  the  ancients  in  general :  — 

"  The  great  of  old ! 
The  dead  but  sceptred  sovrans  who  still  rule 
Our  spirits  from  their  urns." 

Now,  then,  the  application  of  the  term  art  in  the  modern 
languages  bemg  mediately  governed  by  certain  distinctions 
which  the  capacities  of  the  Greek  tongue  allowed  Aristotle  to 
establish,  these  distinctions  must  be  explained. 

In  the  Aristotelic  philosophy,  the  terms  nQa^ig  and  nQd'AziAog, 
—  that  is,  practice  and  practical,  were  employed  both  in  a  ge- 
neric or  looser,  and  in  a  special  or  stricter  signification.  In  its 
generic  meaning,  itQahg,  practice,  was  opposed  to  theory  or 
speculation,  and  it  comprehended  under  it  practice  in  its  special 
meanino-,  and  another  coordinate  term  to  which  practice,  in  tliis, 
its  stricter  signification,  was  opposed.  This  term  was  Ttoir^oig, 
which  we  may  inadequately  translate  by  production.  The  dis- 
tinction of  TiQa-AzrAog  and  TTotijTi'Aog  consisted  in  this :  the  former 
denoted  that  action  which  terminated  in  action,  — the  latter, 
that  action  which  resulted  in  some  permanent  product.  For 
example,  dancing  and  music  are  practical,  as  leaving  no  work 
after  their  performance;  whereas,  painting  and  statuary  are 
productive,  as  leaving  some  product  over  and  above  their  en- 
ergy. 


76 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


Now  Aristotle,  in  formally  defining  art,  defines  it  a;?  a  habit 
productive,  and  not  as  a  habit  practical,  E^tg  TZoirjTixtj  fina  loyov ; 
—  and,  though  he  has  not  always  himself'  adhered  strictly  to  this 
limitation,  his  definition  was  adopted  by  his  followers,  and  the 
term  in  its  application  to  the  practical  sciences  (the  term  prac- 
tical being  here  used  in  its  generic  meaning),  came  to  be  exclu- 
sively confined  to  those  whose  end  did  not  result  in  mere  action 
or  energy.     Accordingly,  as  Ethics,  Politics,  etc.,  proposed  hap- 
piness as  their  end,  —  and  as  happiness  was  an  energy,  or  at 
least  the  concomitant  of  energ}^,  these  sciences  terminated  m 
action,  and  were  consequently  practical,  not  productive.     On 
the  other  hand,  Logic,  Rhetoric,  etc.,  did  not  terminate  in  a 
mere,  —  an  evanescent  action,  but  in  a  permanent,  —  an  endur- 
ing product.     For  the  end  of  Logic  was  the  production  of  a 
reasoning,  the  end  of  Rhetoric  the  production  of  an  oration, 
and  so  forth.     This  distinction  is  not  perhaps  beyond  the  reach 
of  criticism,  and  I  am  not  here  to  vindicate  its  correctness.    My 
only  aim  is  to  make  you  aware  of  the  grounds  of  the  distinction, 
in  order  that  you  may  comprehend  the  principle  which  origi- 
nally determined  the  application  of  the  term  art  to  some  of  the 
practical  sciences  and  not  to  others,  and  without  a  knowledge 
of  which  principle,  the  various  employment  of  the  term  must 
appear  to  you  capricious  and  unintelligible.     It  is  needless,  per- 
haps, to  notice   that  the  rule  applies  only  to  the  philosophical 
sciences,  —  to  those  which   received  their  form  and  denomina- 
tions from  the   learned.     The  mechanical  dexterities  were  be- 
neath their  notice ;  and  these  were  accordingly  left  to  receive 
their  appellations  from  those  who  knew  nothing  of  the  Aristo- 
telic  proprieties.     Accordingly,  the  term  art  is  in  them  applied, 
without  distinction,  to  productive  and  unproductive  operations. 
We  speak  of  the  art  of  rope-dancing,  equally  as  of  the  art  of 
rope-makiiig.     But  to  return. 

Universality  of  this  division  of  Philosophy.  —  The  division 
of  philosophy  into  Theoretical  and  Practical  is  the  most  impor- 
tant that  has  been  made ;  and  it  is  that  which  has  entered  into 
nearly  all  the  distributions  attempted  by  mo^lern  philosophers. 
Bacon  was  the  first,  after  the 'revival  of  letters,  who  essayed  a 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


77 


distribution  of  the  sciences  and  of  philosophy.  He  divided  all 
human  knowledge  into  History,  Poetry,  and  Philosophy.  Phi- 
losophy he  distinguished  into  branches  conversant  about  the 
Deity,  about  Nature,  and  about  Man ;  and  each  of  these  had 
their  subordinate  divisions,  which,  however,  it  is  not  necessary 
to  particularize. 

Descartes  distributed  philosophy  into  theoretical  and  practi- 
cal, with  various  subdivisions;  but  his  followers  adopted  the 
division  of  Logic,  Metaphysics,  Physics,  and  Ethics.  Gassendi 
recognized,  like  the  ancients,  three  parts  of  philosophy,  Logic, 
Physics,  and  Ethics,  and  this,  along  with  many  other  of  Gas- 
sendi's  doctrines,  was  adopted  by  Locke.  Kant  distinguished 
philosophy  mto  theoretical  and  practical,  with  various  subdivis- 
ions ;  and  the  distribution  into  theoretical  and  practical  was  also 
established  by  Fichte. 

I  have  now  concluded  the  general  Introduction  to  Philoso- 
phy, in  which,  from  the  general  nature  of  the  subjects,  I  have 
been  compelled  to  anticipate  conclusions,  and  to  depend  on  your 
being  able  to  supply  a  good  deal  of  what  it  was  impossible  for 
me  articulately  to  explain.  I  now  enter  upon  the  considera- 
tion of  the  matters  which  are  hereafter  to  occupy  our  attention, 
with  comparatively  little  apprehension,  —  for,  in  these,  we  shall 
be  able  to  dwell  more  upon  details,  while,  at  the  same  time,  the 
subject  will  open  upon  us  by  degrees,  so  that,  every  step  that 
we  proceed,  we  shall  find  the  progress  easier.  But  I  have  to 
warn  you,  that  you  will  probably  find  the  very  commencement 
the  most  arduous,  and  this  not  only  because  you  will  come  less 
mured  to  difficulty,  but  because  it  will  there  be  necessary  to 
deal  with  principles,  and  these  of  a  general  and  abstract  na- 
ture ;  whereas,  having  once  mastered  these,  every  subsequent 
step  will  be  comparatively  easy. 

Without  entering  upon  details,  I  may  now  summarily  state 
the  order  which  I  propose  to  follow.  This  requires  a  prelim- 
inary exposition  of  the  different  departments  of  Philosophy,  in 
order  that  you  may  obtain  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  proper 
objects  of  our  consideration,  and  of  the  relations  in  which  they 
stand  to  others. 

7* 


78 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


Distribution  of  the  Sciences.  —  Science  and  philosophy  are 
conversant  either  about  Mind  or  about  Matter.  The  former  of 
these  is  Philosophy,  properly  so  called.  With  the  latter  we 
have  nothing  to  do,  except  in  so  far  as  it  may  enable  us  to 
throw  light  upon  the  former  ;  for  Metaphysics,  in  whatever  lati- 
tude the  term  be  taken,  is  a  science,  or  complement  of  sciences, 
exclusively  occupied  with  mind.  Now  the  Philosophy  of 
Mind,  —  Psychology  or  Metaphysics,  in  the  widest  signification 
of  the  terms,  —  is  threefold  ;  for  the  object  it  immediately  pro- 
poses for  consideration  may  be  either,  1°,  Ph.enomena  in 
general ;  or,  2°,  Laws  ;  or,  3°,  Inferences,  —  Results. 
This  I  will  endeavor  to  explain. 

The  three  grand  questions  of  Philosophy.  —  The  whole  of 
philosophy  is  the  answer  to  these  three  questions :  1°,  What 
are  the  Facts  or  Phaenomena  to  be  observed  ?  2°,  What  are 
the  Laws  which  regulate  these  facts,  or  under  which  these  phjE- 
nomena  appear  ?  3°,  What  are  the  real  Results,  not  immedi- 
ately manifested,  which  these  facts  or  phaenomena  warrant  us  in 
drawinij  ? 

Phenomenology.  —  If  we  consider  the  mind  merely  with  the 
view  of  observing  and  generalizing  the  various  phaenomena  it 
reveals,  —  that  is,  of  analyzing  them  into  capacities  or  facul- 
ties, —  we  have  one  mental  science,  or  one  department  of  men- 
tal science ;  and  this  we  may  call  the  Phenomenology  of 
Mind.  It  is  commonly  called  Psychology  —  Empirical 
Psychology,  or  the  Inductive  Philosophy  of  Mind  ;  we 
might  call  it  Pilenomenal  Psychology.  It  is  evident  that 
the  divisions  of  this  science  will  be  determined  by  the  classes 
into  which  the  i)ha3nomena  of  mind  are  distributed. 

Nomology  and  its  subdivisions.  —  If,  again,  we  analyze  the 
mental  phienomena  with  the  view  of  discovering-  and  consider- 
ing,  not  contingent  appearances,  but  the  necessary  and  universal 
facts,  —  i.  e.  the  laws  by  which  our  fticulties  are  governed,  to 
the  end  that  we  may  obtain  a  criterion  by  which  to  judge  or  to 
explain  their  procedures  and  manifetstations,  —  we  have  a  sci- 
ence whicR  we  may  call  the  Nomology  of  Mind,  —  nomo- 
LOGICAL  psychology.     Now,  there  will  be  as  many  distinct 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


79 


classes  of  Nomological  Psychology,  as  there  are  distinct  classes 
of  mental  phaenomena  under  the  Phaenomenological  division. 
I  shall,  hereafter,  show  you  that  there  are  Three  great  classes 
of  these  phaenomena,  —  namely,  1°,  The  phaenomena  of  our 
Cognitive  faculties,  or  faculties  of  Knowledge ;  2°,  The  phae- 
nomena of  our  Feelings,  or  the  phaenomena  of  Pleasure  and 
Pain  ;  and,  3°,  The  phaenomena  of  our  Conative  powers,  —  in 
other  words,  the  phaenomena  of  Will  and  Desire.  Each  of 
these  classes  of  phaenomena  has,  accordingly,  a  science  which  is 
conversant  about  its  Laws.  For,  as  each  proposes  a  different 
end,  and,  in  the  accomplishment  of  that  end,  is  regulated  by 
peculiar  laws,  each  must,  consequently,  have  a  different  science 
conversant  about  these  layrs,  —  that  is,  a  different  Nomology. 

There  is  no  one,  no  Nomological,  science  of  the  Cognitive 
faculties,  in  general ;  though  we  have  some  older  treatises  which, 
though  partial  in  their  subject,  afford  a  name  not  unsuitable  for 
a  nomology  of  the  cognitions,  —  namely,  Gnoseologia  or  Gnos- 
tologia.  There  is  no  independent  science  of  the  laws  of  Per- 
ception ;  if  there  were,  it  might  be  called  Esthetic,  which, 
however,  as  we  shall  see,  would  be  ambiguous.  Mnemonic,  or 
the  science  of  the  laws  of  Memory,  has  been  elaborated  at  least 
in  numerous  treatises  ;  but  the  name  Anamnestic,  the  art  of 
Recollection  or  Reminiscence,  might  be  equally  well  applied  to 
it.  The  laws  of  the  Representative  faculty,  —  that  is,  the  laws 
of  Association,  have  not  yet  been  elevated  into  a  separate 
nomological  science.  Neither  have  the  conditions  of  the  Regu- 
lative or  Legislative  faculty,  the  faculty  itself  of  Laws,  been 
fully  analyzed,  far  less  reduced  to  system ;  though  we  have 
several  deservedly  forgotten  treatises,  of  an  older  date,  under 
the  inviting  name  of  Noologies.  The  only  one  of  the  cognitive 
faculties,  whose  laws  constitute  the  object-matter  of  a  separate 
science,  is  the  Elaborative,  —  the  Understanding  Special,  the 
faculty  of  relations,  the  faculty  of  Thought  Proper.  This 
nomology  has  obtained  the  name  of  Logic  among  other  appel- 
lations, but  not  from  Ai'istotle.  The  best  name  would  have 
been  Dianoetic.  Logic  is  the  science  of  the  laws  of  thought, 
in  relation  to  the  end  which  our  cognitive  faculties  propose,  — 


80 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


81 


t.  e.  the  True.     To  this  head  might  be  referred  Grammar, 

Universal  Grammar,  —  Philosophical  Grammar,  or  the  sci- 
ence conversant  with  the  laws  of  Language,  as  the  instrument 
of  thought. 

The  Nomology  of  our  Feelings,  or  the  science  of  the  laws 
which  govern  our  capacities  of  enjoyment,  in  relation  to  the 
end  which  they  propose,  —  i.  e.  the  Pleasurable,  — has  ob- 
tained no  precise  name  in  our  language.  It  has  been  called  the 
Philosophy  of  Taste,  and,  on  the  Continent  especially,  it  has 
been  denominated  Esthetic.  Neither  name  is  unobjectionable. 
The  first  is  vague,  metaphorical,  and  even  delusive.  In  regard 
to  the  second,  you  are  aware  that  caa^oig  in  Greek  means 
feeling  in  general,  as  well  as  sense  iQ  particular ;  as  our  term 
feeling  means  either  the  sense  of  touch  in  particular,  or  senti- 
ment, —  and  the  capacity  of  the  pleasurable  and  painful  in 
general.  Both  terms  are,  therefore,  to  a  certain  extent,  ambig- 
uous ;  but  this  objection  can  rarely  be  avoided,  and  Esthetic, 
if  not  the  best  expression  to  be  found,  has  abeady  been  long 
and  generally  employed.  It  is  now  nearly  a  century  since 
Baumgarten,  a  celebrated  philosopher  of  the  Leibnitzio-Wolfian 
school,  first  applied  the  term  iEsthetic  to  the  doctrine  which  we 
vaguely  and  periphrastically  denominate  the  Pliilosophy  of 
Taste,  the  theory  of  the  Fine  Arts,  the  science  of  the  Beauti- 
ful and  Sublime,  etc.,  —  and  this  term  is  now  in  general  accep- 
tance, not  only  in  Germany,  but  throughout  the  other  countries 
of  Europe.  The  term  Apolaustic  would  have  been  a  more 
appropriate  designation. 

Finally,  the  Nomology  of  our  Conative  powers  is  Practical 
Philosophy,  properly  so  called  ;  for  practical  philosophy  is  sim- 
ply the  science  of  the  laws  regulative  of  our  Will  and  Desires, 

in  relation  to  the  end  w  hich  our  conative  powers  propose, 

t.  e.  the  Good.  This,  as  it  considers  these  laws  in  relation  to 
man  as  an  individual,  or  in  relation  to  man  as  a  member  of 
society,  will  be  divided  into  two  branches,  —  Ethics  and  Poli- 
tics ;  and  these  again  admit  of  various  subdivisions. 

So  much  for  those  parts  of  the  Philosophy  of  Mind,  which 
are   conversant   about   Phaenomena,   and   about   Laws.      The 


Third  great  branch  of  this  philosophy  is  that  which  is  engaged 
in  the  deduction  of  Inferences  or  Results. 

Ontology,  or  Metaphysics  Proper.  —  In  the  First  branch,  — 
the  Phaenomenology  of  mind,  —  philosophy  is  properly  limited 
to  the  facts  afl^brded  in  consciousness,  considered  exclusively  in 
themselves.  But  these  facts  may  be  such  as  not  only  to  be  ob- 
jects of  knowledge  in  themselves,  but  likewise  to  furnish  us 
with  grounds  of  inference  to  something  out  of  themselves.  As 
effects,  and  effects  of  a  certain  character,  they  may  enable  us 
to  infer  the  analogous  character  of  their  unknown  causes ;  as 
phainomena,  and  phaenomena  of  peculiar  qualities,  they  may 
warrant  us  in  drawing  many  conclusions  regarding  the  distinc- 
tive character  of  that  unknown  princij^le,  of  that  unknown 
substance,  of  which  they  are  the  manifestations.  Although, 
therefore,  existence  be  only  revealed  to  us  in  phasnomena,  and 
though  w^e  can,  therefore,  have  only  a  relative  knowledge  either 
of  mind  or  of  matter ;  still,  by  inference  and  analogy,  we  may 
legitimately  attempt  to  rise  above  the  mere  appearances  which 
experience  and  observation  afford.  Thus,  for  example,  the  ex- 
istence of  God  and  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  ai-e  not  given 
us  as  phenomena,  as  objects  of  immediate  knowledge ;  yet,  if 
the  phaenomena  actually  given  do  necessarily  require,  for  their 
rational  explanation,  the  hypotheses  of  immortality  and  of  God, 
we  are  assuredly  entitled,  from  the  existence  of  the  former,  to 
infer  the  reality  of  the  latter.  Now,  the  science  conversant 
about  all  such  inferences  of  unknown  being  from  its  known 
manifestations,  is  called  Ontology,  or  Metaphysics  Proper. 
We  might  call  it  Inferential  Psychology. 

The  following  is  a  tabular  view  of  the  distribution  of  Philos- 
ophy as  here  proposed : 


B 

tc 
9 
_o 

O    CO 

si 
u 
o 

a 


Facts,  —  Phaenomenology,  Empirical 
Psychology. 

-    Laws,  —  Nomology,    Rational    Psy- 
chology. 


Results,  —  Ontology,  Inferential  Psy-  j  Being  of  God 


chology. 


Cognitions. 

Feelings. 

Conative  Powers  (Will  and  Desire). 

Cognitions,  —  Logic 

Feelings,  —  .aesthetic. 

Conative  Powers.  {  l^^^^  Philosophy. 


'olitical  Philosophy. 


Immortality  of  the  Soul,  etc. 


82 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


83 


Li  this  distribution  of  the  philosophical  sciences,  you  will 
observe  that  I  take  little  account  of  the  celebrated  division 
of  philo.^ophy  into  Speculative  and  Practical,  wliich  I  have 
already  explained  to  you,  for  I  call  only  one  minor  division  of 
philosophy  practical,  —  namely,  the  Nomology  of  the  Conative 
powers,  not  because  that  science  is  not  equally  theoretical  with 
any  other,  but  simply  because  these  powers  are  properly  called 
practical,  as  tending  to  practice  or  overt  action. 

J>istr%bution  of  Philosophy  in  the  Universities.-^  The  subjects 
assigned  to  the  various  chairs  of  the  Philosophical   Faculty,  in 
the  different  Universities  of  Europe,  were  not  calculated  upon 
any  comprehensive  view  of  the  parts  of  philosophy,  and  of  their 
natural  connection.     The  universities  were  founded  when  the 
Aristotelic  philosophy  was  the  dominant,  or  rather  the  exclu- 
sive, system,  and  the  parts  distributed  to  the  different  classes,  in 
the  faculty  of  Arts  or  Philosophy,  were  regulated  by  the  contents 
of  certain  of  the  Aristotelic  books,  and  by  the  order  in  which 
they  were  studied.     Of  these,  there  were  always   Four  great 
divisions.    There  was  first.  Logic,  in  relation  to  the  Organon  of 
Ai'istotle;  secondly,  Metaphysics,  relative  to  his  books  under 
that   title  ;   thirdly.   Moral  Philosophy,  relative  to  his  Ethics, 
Politics,   and   Economics;    and,  fourthly,   Physics,  relative  to 
his  Physics,  and  the  collection  of  treatises  styled  in  the  schools 
the  Parva  Naturalia.     But  every  university  had   not  a  full 
complement  of  classes,  that  is,  did  not  devote  a  separate  year 
to  each  of  the  four  subjects  of  study ;   and,   accordingly,  in 
those  seats  of  learning  where  three  years  formed  the  curricu- 
lum of  philosophy,  two  of  these  branches  were  combined.     In 
the   university  of  Edinburgh,    Logic   and   Metaphysics   were 
taught  in  the  same  year;  in   others.  Metaphysics  and  Moral 
Philosophy  were  conjoined;  and,  whgn  the  old  practice  was 
abandoned  of  the  several   Regents  or  Professors  carrying  on 
their   students    through    every  department,   the    two  branches 
which  had  been  taught  in  the  same  year  were  assigned  to  the 

same   chair.     What  is  most  curious  in  the  matter  is  this, 

Aristotle's  treatise  On  the   Soul  being  (along  with  his  lesser 
treatises  on  Memory  and  Reminiscence,  on  Sense  and  its  Objects, 


etc.)  included  in  the  Parva  Naturalia,  and,  he  having  declared 
that  the  consideration  of  the  soul  was  part  of  the  philosophy  of 
nature,  the  science  of  Mind  was  always  treated  along  with 
Physics.  The  professors  of  Natural  Philosophy  have,  however, 
long  abandoned  the  philosophy  of  mind,  and  this  branch  has 
been,  as  more  appropriate  to  their  departments,  taught  both  by 
the  Professors  of  Moral  Philosophy  and  by  the  Professors  of 
Logic  and  Metaphysics ;  — for  you  are  not  to  suppose  that  meta- 
physics and  psychology  are,  though  vulgarly  used  as  synony- 
mous expressions,  by  any  means  the  same. 

In  this  work,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  Practical  Philoso- 
phy,—  that  is.  Ethics,  Politics,  Economics.  But  with  this 
exception,  there  is  no  other  branch  of  philosophy  which  does 
not  fall  naturally  within  our  sphere. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


DEFINITION  OF  PSYCHOLOGY;    RELATIVITY  OF  HOIAN 
KNOWLEDGE  ;  EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 

Psychology,  or  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind, 
strictly  so  denominated,  is  the  science  conversant  about  the 
ph(Bnomena,  or  modifications,  or  states  of  the  Mind,  or  Con- 
scious-Subject,  or  Soul,  or  Spirit,  or  Self,  or  Ego. 

In  this  definition,  you  will  observe  that  I  have  purposely 
accumulated  a  variety  of  expressions,  in  order  that  I  might 
have  the  earliest  opportunity  of  making  you  accurately  ac- 
quainted with  their  meaning ;  for  they  are  terms  of  vital  im- 
portance and  frequent  use  in  pliilosophy.  —  Before,  therefore, 
proceeding  further,  I  shall  pause  a  moment  in  explanation  of 
the  terms  in  whicli  this  definition  is  expressed.  Without  re- 
stricting myself  to  the  following  order,  I  shall  consider  the 
word  Psychology ;  the  correlative  terms  subject  and  substance, 
ph(2nomenon,  mpdifcation,  state,  etc.,  and,  at  the  same  time,  take 
occasion  to  explain  another  correlative,  the  expression  ob/ect ; 
and,  finally,  the  words  mind,  soul,  spirit,  self,  and  ego. 

Indeed,  after  considering  these  terms,  it  may  not  be  im- 
proper to  take  up,  in  one  series,  the  pliilosophical  expressions 
of  principal  importance  and  most  ordinary  occurrence,  in  order 
to  render  less  frequent  the  necessity  of  interrupting  the  course 
of  our  procedure,  to  afford  the  requisite  verbal  explanations. 

The  use  of  the  term  Psychology  vindicated.  —  The  term  Psy- 
chology, is  a  Greek  compound,  its  elements  ypv^ri,  signifying 
sold  or  mind,  and  loyog,  signifying  discourse  or  doctrine.  Psy- 
chology, therefore,  is  the  discourse  or  doctrine  treating  of  the 
human  mind.     But,  though  composed  of  Greek  elements,  it  is, 

like  the  greater  number  of  the  compounds  of  loyog,  of  modem 
(84) 


DEFINITION   OF  PSYCHOLOGY. 


85 


combination.  I  may  be  asked,  —  why  use  an  exotic,  a  techni- 
cal name  ?  Why  not  be  contented  with  the  more  popular  terms, 
Philosophy  of  Mind,  or  Mental  Philosophy,  —  Science  of  Mind, 
or  Mental  Science  ?  —  expressions  by  which  this  department  of 
knowledge  has  been  usually  designated  by  those  who,  in  Scotland, 
have  cultivated  it  with  the  most  distinguished  success.  To  this 
there  are  several  answers.  In  the^rs^  place,  philosophy  itself,  and 
all,  or  almost  all,  its  branches,  have,  in  our  language,  received 
Greek  technical  denominations  ;  —  why  not  also  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all,  the  science  of  mmd  ?  In  the  second  place,  the  temi 
psychology  is  now,  and  has  long  been,  the  ordinary  expression 
for  the  doctrine  of  mind  in  the  philosophical  language  of  every 
other  European  nation.  Nay,  in  point  of  fact,  it  is  now  natu- 
rahzed  in  English,  psychology  and  psychological  having  of  late 
years  come  into  common  use ;  and  their  employment  is  war- 
ranted by  the  authority  of  the  best  English  writers.  But  these 
are  reasons  in  themselves  of  comparatively  little  moment :  they 
tend  merely  to  show  that,  if  otherwise  expedient,  the  nomen- 
clature is  permissible  ;  and  that  it  is  expedient,  the  following 
reasons  will  prove.  For,  in  the  third  place,  it  is  always  of  con- 
sequence, for  the  sake  of  precision,  to  be  able  to  use  one  word 
instead  of  a  plurality  of  words,  —  especially  where  the  frequent 
occurrence  of  a  descriptive  appellation  might  occasion  tedium, 
distraction,  and  disgust ;  and  this  must  necessarily  occur  in  the 
treatment  of  any  science,  if  the  science  be  able  to  possess  no 
single  name  vicarious  of  its  definition.  In  this  respect,  there- 
fore. Psychology  is  preferable  to  Philosophy  of  Mind.  But,  in 
i\iQ  fourth  place,  even  if  the  employment  of  the  description  for 
the  name  could,  in  this  instance,  be  tolerated  when  used  sub- 
stantively, wliat  are  we  to  do  when  we  require  (which  we  do 
unceasingly)  to  use  the  denomination  of  the  science  adjectively  ? 
For  example,  I  have  occasion  to  say  a  psychological  fact,  o.  psy- 
chological law,  a  psychological  curiosity,  etc.  How  can  we  ex- 
press these  by  the  descriptive  appellation?  A  psychological 
fact  may  indeed  be  styled  "  a  fact  considered  relatively  to  the 
philosophy  of  the  human  mind,"  —  a  psychological  law  may  be 
called  "  a  law  by  which  the  mental  phasnomena  are  governed,"  — 

8 


86 


DEFINITION  OF  PSYCHOLOGY. 


DEFINITION  OF  PSYCHOLOGY. 


87 


a  psychological  curiosity  may  be  rendered  —  by  what,  I  really 
do  not  know.  But  how  miserably  weak,  awkward,  tedious,  and 
affected,  is  the  commutation  when  it  can  be  made ;  not  only  do 
the  vivacity  and  precision  of  the  original  evaporate,  the  mean- 
ing itself  is  not  even  adequately  conveyed.  But  this  defect  is 
still  more  manifestly  shown,  when  we  wish  to  place  in  contrast 
the  matters  proper  to  this  science,  with  the  matters  proper  to 
others.  Thus,  for  example,  to  say,  —  this  is  a  psychological,  not 
a  physiological  doctrine  —  this  is  a  psychological  observation, 
not  a  logical  inference.  How  is  the  contradistinction  to  be  ex- 
pressed by  a  periphrasis  ?  It  is  impossible  ;  —  for  the  intensity 
of  the  contrast  consists,  fii'st,  in  the  two  opposite  terms  being 
single  words,  and  second,  in  their  being  both  even  technical  and 
precise  Greek.  This  necessity  has,  accordingly,  compelled  the 
adoption  of  the  terms  psychology  and  psychological  into  the 
philosophical  nomenclature  of  every  nation,  even  where  the 
same  necessity  did  not  vindicate  the  employment  of  a  non-ver- 
nacular expression.  Thus  in  Germany,  though  the  native  lan- 
guage affords  a  facility  of  composition  only  inferior  to  the  Greek, 
and  though  it  possesses  a  word  (Seeletilehre)  exactly  correspond- 
ent to  ypv'ioloyia^  yet  because  this  substantive  did  not  easily 
allow  of  an  adjective  flexion,  the  Greek  terms,  substantive  and 
adjective,  were  both  adopted,  and  have  been  long  in  as  famihar 
use  in  the  Empire,  as  the  terms  geography  and  geograpliical,  — 
physiology  and  physiological,  are  with  us. 

Other  terms  inappropriate.  —  What  I  have  nov/  said  may 
sufiice  to  show  that,  to  supply  necessity,  we  must  introduce 
these  words  into  our  philosoi)hical  vocabulary.  But  the  pro- 
priety of  this  is  still  further  shown  by  the  inauspicious  attempts 
that  have  been  recently  made  on  the  name  of  the  science.  Dr. 
Brown,  in  the  very  title  of  the  abridgment  of  his  lectures  on 
mental  philosophy,  has  styled  this  philosophy,  "  The  Physiology 
of  the  Human  Mind  ;  "  and  I  have  also  seen  two  English  publi- 
cations of  modern  date,  —  one  entitled  the  "  Physics  of  the 
Soiiir  the  other  "  Intellectual  Physics^  Now  the  term  nature 
((fvGi^'j  naiura),  though  in  common  language  of  a  more  exten- 
sive meaning,  has,  in  general,  by  philosophers,  been  applied 


appropriately  to  denote  the  laws  which  govern  the  appearances 
of  the  material  universe.  And  the  words  Physiology  and 
Physics  have  been  specially  limited  to  denote  sciences  conver- 
sant about  these  laws  as  regulating  the  phaenomena  of  .organic 
and  inorganic  bodies.  The  empire  of  nature  is  the  empire  of  a 
mechanical  necessity ;  the  necessity  of  nature,  in  philosophy, 
stands  opposed  to  the  liberty  of  inteUigence.  Those,  accord- 
ingly, who  do  not  allow  that  mind  is  matter,  — who  hold  that 
there  is  in  man  a  principle  of  action  superior  to  the  determina- 
tions of  a  physical  necessity,  a  brute  or  blind  fate,  — must 
regard  the  application  of  the  terms  Physiology  and  Physics  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  mind  as  either  singularly  inappropriate,  or 
as  significant  of  a  false  hypothesis  in  regard  to  the  character  of 
the  thinking  principle. 

Use  and  derivation  of  Spirit,  Soul.  — -  Mr.  Stewart  objects  to 
the  term  Spirit,  as  seeming  to  imply  an  hypothesis  concerning 
the  nature  and  essence  of  the  sentient  or  thinking  principle, 
altogether  unconnected  with  our  conclusions  in  regard  to  its 
phajnomena,  and  their  general  laws ;  and,  for  the  same  reason, 
he  is  disposed  to  object  to  the  words  Pneumatology  and  Psy- 
chology, the  former  of  which  was  introduced  by  the  school- 
men.''In  regard  to  Spirit  and  Pneumatology,  ^Iv.  Stewart's 
criticism  is  perfectly  just.  They  are  unnecessary ;  and,  besides 
the  etymological  metaphor,  they  are  associated  with  a  certain 
theological  limitation,  which  spoils  them  as  expressions  of  philo- 
sophical generality.*  But  this  is  not  the  case  with  Psychology. 
For  though,  in  its  etymology,  it  is,  like  ahnost  all  metaphysical 
terms,  orFginally  of  physical  application,  still  this  had  been  long 
forgotten  even  by  the  Greeks  ;  and,  if  we  were  to  reject  philo- 
sophical expressions  on  this  account,  we  should  be  left  without 
any  terms  for  the  mental  phaenomena  at  all.     The  term  soul 

*  The  terms  Ps^jchohijy  and  Pneumatology,  or  Pneumatic,  are  not  equiva- 
lents. Tlic  latter  word  was  used  for  the  doctrine  of  spirit  in  general,  wluch 
was  subdivided  into  three  branches,  as  it  treated  of  the  three  orders  of  spir- 
itual  substances,  -  God,  -Angels  and  Devils,-  and  Man.     Thus  - 

)  1.  Theologia  (Naturalis). 
Pneumatologia  or  Pneumatica,  [■  2.  Angelographia,  Damonologia. 

)  3.  Psychologia. 


88 


RELATIVITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


RELATIVITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


89 


(and  what  I  say  of  the  term  soul  is  true  of  the  term  spirit) 
though  in  this  country  less  employed  than  the  term  mind,  may 
be  regarded  as  another  synonym  for  the  unknown  basis  of  the 
mental  pha^nomena.     Like  nearly  all  the  words  significant  of 
the  mternal  world,  there  is  here  a  metaphor  borrowed  from  the 
external ;  and  this  is  the  case  not  merely  in  one,  but,  as  far  as 
we  can  trace   the  analogy,  in  all  languages.     You  ai-e  aware 
that  xbvxr„  the  Greek  term  for  soul,  comes  from  Vwx<<),  I  breathe 
or  blow.  —  as  nvtina  in  Greek,  and  spiritiis  in  Latin,  from 
verbs  of  the  same  signification.     In  like  manner,  anima  and 
animus  are  words  which,  though  in   Latin  they  have  lost  their 
primary  signification,  and  are  only  known  in  their  secondary  or 
metaphorical,  yet  in  their  original  physical  meaning,  are  pre- 
served m  the  Greek  avefioi,  wind  or  air.     The  En<rli^h  soxd 
and  the  German  Seele,  come  from  a  Gothic  root  saivlla,  which 
sign.hes  to  storm.     Ghost,  the  old  English  word  for  spirit  in 
general,  and  so  used  in  our  English  version  of  the  Scriptures 
IS  the  same  as  the  German  Geist,  and  is  derived  from  Gas,  or 
^•scht,  winch  signifies  air.     In  like  manner,  the  two  word,  in 
Hebrew  for  soul  or  spirit,  nephesh  and  ruach,  are  derivatives 
of  a  root  which  means  to  breathe ;  and  in  Sanscrit,  the  word 
atma   (analogous  to  the  Greek  «r^o,,  vapor  or  air)   signifies 
both  mind  and  wind  or  air.     Sapientia,  in  Latin,  originally 
meant  only  the  power  of  tasting ;  as  sagacitas  only  the  faculty 
of  scenting.     In  French,  penser  comes  from  the  J.Mm  pendere, 
through  ^e«s«re  to  weigh,  and  the  terms,  attentio,  intentio  (en- 
tendement),  comprehensio,  apprehensio,  penetratio,  understand- 
ing, etc.,  are  just  so  many  bodily  actions  transferred  to  the 
expression  of  mental  energies. 

In  the  second  place,  I^aid  that  Psychology  is  conversant 
about  the  pha^nomena  of  the  thinking  subject,  etc. ;  and  I  now 
proceed  to  expound  the  import  of  the  correlative  terms  pha;. 
nomenon,  subject,  etc. 

Correlative  terms  illustrated  hj  the  relativity  of  human  knowl- 
edge. -  But  the  meanino.  of  these  terms  will  be  best  illustrated 
by  now  stating  and  explaining  the  great  axiom,  that  all  human 
knowledge,  consequently  that  all  human  philosophy,  is  only  of 


the  relative  or  phenomenal.  In  this  proposition,  the  term  rela- 
tive is  opposed  to  the  term  absolute  ;  and,  therefore,  in  saying 
that  we  know  only  the  relative,  I  virtually  assert  that  we  know 
nothing  absolute,  —  nothing  existing  absolutely  ;  that  is,  in  and 
for  itself,  and  without  relation  to  us  and  our  faculties.  I  shall 
illustrate  this  by  its  application.  Our  knowledge  is  either  of 
matter  or  of  mind.  Now,  what  is  matter  ?  What  do  we  know 
of  matter  ?  Matter,  or  body,  is  to  us  the  name  either  of  some- 
thing known,  or  of  something  unknown.  Li  so  far  as  matter  is 
a  name  for  something  known,  it  means  that  which  appears  to  us 
under  the  forms  of  extension,  solidity,  divisibility,  figure,  mo- 
tion, roughness,  smoothness,  color,  heat,  cold,  etc. ;  in  short,  it  is 
a  common  name  for  a  certain  series,  or  aggregate,  or  comple- 
ment of  appearances  or  phaenomena  manifested  in  coexistence. 

But  as  the  phcenomena  appear  only  in  conjunction,  we  are 
compelled  by  the  constitution  of  our  nature  to  think  them  con- 
joined in  and  by  something ;  and  as  they  are  phoenomena,  we 
cannot  think  them  the  phenomena  of  nothing,  but  must  regard 
them  as  the  properties  or  quaUties  of  something  that  is  extended, 
solid,  figured,  etc.  But  this  something,  absolutely  and  in  itself, 
—  1.  e,  considered  apart  from  its  phoenomena,  —  is  to  us  as  zero. 
It  is  only  in  its  qualities,  only  in  its  effects,  in  its  relative  or 
phauiomenal  existence,  that  it  is  cognizable  or  conceivable  ;  and 
it  is  only  by  a  law  of  thought,  which  compels  us  to  think  some- 
thing, absolute  and  unknown,  as  the  basis  or  condition  of  the 
relative  and  known,  that  this  something  obtains  a  kind  of  in- 
comprehensible reality  to  us.  Now,  that  which  manifests  its 
qualities,  —  in  other  words,  that  in  w^liich  the  appearing  causes 
inhere,  that  to  which  they  belong,  is  called  their  subject,  or  sub- 
stance, or  substratum.  To  this  subject  of  the  phoenomena  of 
extension,  solidity,  etc.,  the  term  matter  or  material  substance  is 
commonly  given  ;  and,  therefore,  as  contradistinguished  from 
these  qualities,  it  is  the  name  of  something  unknown  and  in- 
conceivable. 

The  same  is  true  in  regard  to  the  term  mind.  In  so  far  as 
mind  is  the  common  name  for  the  states  of  knowing,  willing, 
feeling,  desiring,  etc,  of  which  I  am  conscious,  it  is  only  the 

8* 


90 


RELATIVITY   OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


RELATIVITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


91 


name  for  a  certain  series  of  connected  phaenomena  or  qualities 
and,  consequently,  expresses  only  what  is  known.  But  in  so 
far  as  it  denotes  that  subject  or  substance  in  which  the  phaenom- 
ena of  knowing,  willing,  etc.,  inhere,  —  something  behind  or 
under  these  pha?nomena,  —  it  expresses  what,  in  itself,  or  in  its 
absolute  existence,  is  unknown. 

Thus,  mind  and  matter,  as  known  or  knowable,  are  only  two 
different  series  of  phaenomena  or  quahties ;  mind  and  matter,  as 
unknown  and  unknowable,  are  the  two  substances  in  which 
these  two  different  series  of  phainomena  or  quahties  are  sup- 
posed to  inhere.  The  existence  of  an  unknown  substance  is 
only  an  inference  we  are  compelled  to  make,  from  the  existence 
of  known  phtenomena ;  and  the  distinction  of  two  substances  is 
only  inferred  from  the  seeming  incompatibility  of  the  two  series 
of  phaenomena  to  coinhere  in  one. 

Our  whole  knowledge  of  mind  and  matter  is  thus,  as  we  have 
said,  only  relative ;  of  existence,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  we 
know  nothing;  and  we  may  say  of  man  what  Virgil  says  of 
-^neas,  contemplating  in  the  prophetic  sculpture  of  his  shield 
the  future  glories  of  Rome  — 


**  Rerumque  ignarus,  imagine  gaudet. 


>> 


Testimonies  to  the  relativity  of  human  knowledge.  —  This  is, 
indeed,  a  truth,  in  the  admission  of  which  philosophers,  in  gen- 
eral, have  been  singularly  hannonious ;  and  the  praise  that  has 
been  lavished  on  Dr.  Reid  for  this  observation,  is  wholly  unmer- 
ited. In  fact,  I  am  hardly  aware  of  the  philosopher  who  has 
not  proceeded  on  the  supposition,  and  there  are  few  who  have 
not  explicitly  enounced  the  observation.  It  is  only  since  Reid's 
death  tliat  certain  speculators  have  arisen,  who  have  obtained 
celebrity  by  their  attempt  to  found  philosophy  on  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  the  absolute  or  unconditioned.  I  shall  quote  to 
you  a  few  examples  of  this  general  recognition,  as  they  happen 
to  occur  to  my  recollection  ;  and,  in  order  to  manifest  the  better 
its  universality,  I  purposely  overlook  the  testimonies  of  a  more 
modern  })hi]o.>oj)hy. 

Aristotle,  among  many  similar  observations,  remarks  in  re- 


gard to  matter,  that  it  is  incognizable  in  itself ;  while  in  regard 
to  mind  he  says,  "  that  the  intellect  does  not  know  itself  directly, 
but  only  indirectly,  in  knowiflg  other  things ;  "  and  he  defines 
the  soul  from  its  phenomena,  "  the  principle  by  which  we  live, 
and  move,  and  perceive,  and  understand."     St.  Augustin,  the 
most  philosophical  of  the  Christian  fathers,  admirably  says  of 
IjoJy^  —  "Materiam  cognoscendo  ignorari,   et   ignorando   cog- 
nosci ; "  ["  By  assuming  that  we  know  matter,  we  betray  our 
ignorance  of  it ;  and  it  is  only  by  admitting  this  ignorance,  that 
we  can  be  said  to  know  it ; "]  and  of  mind,  —  "  Mens  se  cognos- 
cit  cognoscendo  se  vivere,  se  meminisse,  se  inteUigere,  se  velle, 
cogitare,  scire,  judicare."     ["The  mind  knows  itself  only  by 
knowing  that  it  lives,  remembers,  understands,  wills,  thinks, 
knows,  and  judges."]      "Non  incurrunt,"    says  Melanchthon, 
"  ipsae  substantiae  in  oculos,  sed  vestitae  et  ornatae  accidentibus ; 
hoc  est,  non  possumus,  in  hac  vita,  acie  oculorum  perspicere 
ipsas  substantias :  sed  utcunque,  ex  accidentibus  quae  in  sensus 
exteriores  incurrunt,  ratiocinamur,  quomodo  inter  se  differant 
substantiae."  ["The  substances  themselves  are  not  exposed  to 
sight,  but  only  so  far  they  are  covered  and  adorned  with  their 
attributes ;  that  is,  we  are  not  able,  in  this  life,  to  behold  the 
substances  themselves ;   but   from   the  phenomena   which  are 
manifest  to  our  external  senses,  we  somehow  infer  the  distin- 
guishing peculiarities  of  the  substances  to  which  the  phenomena 
belong."] 

All  relative  existence  is  not  relative  to  us.  —  Thus,  our  knowl- 
edge is  of  partial  and  relative  existence  only,  seeing  that  exist- 
ence in  itself,  or  absolute  existence,*  is  no  object  of  knowledge. 
But  it  does  not  follow  that  all  relative  existence  is  relative  to 
us  ;  that  all  that  can  be  known,  even  by  a  limited  intelligence, 
is  actually  cognizable  by  us.  We  must,  therefore,  more  pre- 
cisely limit  our  sphere  of  knowledge,  by  adding,  that  all  we 
know  is  known  only  under  the  special  conditions  of  our  facul- 
ties. This  is  a  truth  likewise  generally  acknowledged.  "  Man," 
says  Protagoras,  "  is  the  measure  of  the  universe,"  —  a  truth 

*  Absolute  in  two  senses:  1°,  As  opposed  to  partial;  2°,  As  opposed 
to  relative. 


92 


RELATIVITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


RELATIVITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


93 


which  Bacon  has  well  expressed :  ["  All  perceptions,  as  well 
of  the  senses  as  of  the  mind,  are  conformed  to  the  nature  of  the 
percipient  individual,  and  not  tS  the  true  nature  of  the  uni- 
verse ;  and  the  human  understanding  is  like  a  false  mirror, 
which  distorts  and  discolors  the  nature  of  things,  by  mingling 
its  own  nature  with  it/']  "  In  perception,"  says  Kant,  "  every 
thing  is  known  according  to  the  constitution  of  our  faculty  of 
sense." 

This  principle  has  two  branches,  —  Now  this  principle,  in 
which  philosophers  of  the  most  opposite  opinions  equally  con- 
cur, divides  itself  into  two  branches.  In  the  first  place,  it 
would  be  unphilosophical  to  conclude  that  the  properties  of 
existence  necessarily  are,  in  number,  only  as  the  number  of  our 
faculties  of  apprehending  them ;  or,  in  the  second,  that  the 
properties  known,  are  known  in  their  native  purity,  and  ^\^thout 
addition  or  modification  from  our  organs  of  sense,  or  our  capaci- 
ties of  intelligence.     I  shall  illustrate  these  in  their  order. 

In  regard  to  the  first  assertion,  it  is  evident  that  nothing 
exists  for  us,  except  in  so  far  as  it  is  known  to  us,  and  that 
nothing  is  known  to  us,  except  certain  properties  or  modes  of 
existence,  which  are  relative  or  analogous  to  our  faculties. 
Beyond  these  modes  we  know,  and  can  assert,  the  reality  of  no 
existence.  But  if,  on  the  one  hand,  we  are  not  entitled  to 
assert,  as  actually  existent,  except  what  we  know ;  neither,  on 
the  other,  are  we  warranted  in  denying,  as  possibly  existent, 
what  we  do  not  know.  The  universe  may  be  conceived  as  a 
polygon  of  a  thousand,  or  a  hundred  thousand,  sides  or  facets,  — 
and  each  of  these,  sides  or  facets  may  be  conceived  as  repre- 
senting one  special  mode  of  existence.  Now,  of  these  thousand 
sides  or  modes,  all  may  be  equally  essential,  but  thi-ee  or  four 
only  may  be  turned  towards  us,  or  be  analogous  to  our  organs. 
One  side  or  facet  of  the  universe,  as  holding  a  relation  to  the 
organ  of  sight,  is  the  mode  of  luminous  or  visible  existence ; 
another,  as  proi)ortional  to  the  organ  of  hearing,  is  the  mode 
of  sonorous  or  audible  existence ;  and  so  on.  But  if  every  eye 
to  see,  if  every  ear  to  hear,  were  annihilated,  the  mode  of  ex- 
istence to  which  these  organs  now  stand   in   relation,  —  that 


which  could  be  seen,  that  which  could  be  heard,  would  still 
remain  ;  and  if  the  intelligences,  reduced  to  the  three  senses  of 
touch,  smell,  and  taste,  were  then  to  assert  the  impossibility  of 
any  modes  of  being  except  those  to  which  these  three  senses 
were  analogous,  the  procedure  would  not  be  more  unwarranted, 
than  if  we  now  ventured  to  deny  the  possible  reality  of  other 
modes  of  material  existence  than  those  to  the  perception  of  which 
our  five  senses  are  accommodated.     I  will  illustrate  this  by  an 
hypothetical  parallel.     Let  us  suppose  a  block  of  marble,  on 
which  there   are   four   different  inscriptions, — in    Greek,  in 
Latin,  in  Persic,  and   in  Hebrew;  and   that  four   travellers 
approach,  each  able  to  read  only  the  inscription  in  his  native 
tongue.     The  Greek  is  delighted  with  the  information  the  mar- 
ble affords  him  of  the  siege  of  Troy.     The  Roman  finds  inter- 
esting matter  regarding  the  expulsion  of  the  kings.     The  Per- 
sian deciphers  an  oracle  of  Zoroaster.     And  the  Jew  is  sur- 
prised by  a  commemoration  of  the  Exodus.     Here,  as  each 
inscription  exists  or  is  significant  only  to  him  who  possesses  the 
corresponding  language ;  so  the  several  modes  of  existence  are 
manifested  only  to  those  intelligences  who  possess  the  corre- 
sponding organs.     And  as  each  of  the  four  readers  would  be 
rash,  if  he  maintained  that  the  marble  could  be  significant  only 
as  sio-nificant  to  him,  so  should  we  be  rash,  were  we  to  hold 
that  the  universe  had  no  other  phases  of  being  than  the  few 
that  are  turned  towards  our  faculties,  and  wliich  our  five  senses 
enable  us  to  perceive. 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  it  is  perhaps  proper  to  observe, 
that  had  we  faculties  equal  in  number  to  all  the  possible  modes 
of  existence,  whether  of  mind  or  matter,  still  would  our  knowl- 
edge of  mind  or  matter  be  only  relative.  If  material  existence 
could  exhibit  ten  thousand  phaenomena,  and  if  we  possessed  ten 
thousand  senses  to  apprehend  these  ten  thousand  phaenomena 
of  material  existence,  —  of  existence  absolutely  and  in  itself, 
we  should  be  then  as  ignorant  as  we  are  at  present. 

TJie  properties  of  existence  not  known  in  their  native  purity. — 
But  the  consideration  that  our  actual  faculties  of  knowledge  are 
probably  wholly  inadequate  in  number  to  the  possible  modes  of 


94 


RELATIVITY   OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


95 


being,  is  of  comparatively  less  importance  than  the  other  con- 
sideration to  which  we  now  proceed,  —  that  whatever  we  know 
is  not  known  as  it  is,  but  only  as  it  seems  to  2is  to  be  ;  for  it  is 
of  less  importance  that  our  knowledge  should  be  limited,  than 
that  our  knowledge  should  be  pure.     It  is,  therefore,  of  the  high- 
est moment  that  we  should  be  aware,  that  what  we  know  is  not 
a  simple  relation  apprehended  between  the  object  known  and  the 
subject  knowing,  —  but  that  every  knowledge  is  a  sum  made  up 
of  several  elements,  and  that  the  great  business  of  philosophy  is  to 
analyze  and  discriminate  these  elements,  and  to  determine  from 
whence  these  contributions  have  been  derived.     I  shall  explain 
what  I  mean  by  an  example.     In  the  perception  of  an  external 
object,  the  mind  does  not  know  it  in  immediate  relation  to  itself, 
but  mediately,  in  relation  to  the  material  organs  of  sense.     K, 
therefore,  we  were  to  throw  these  organs  out  of  consideration,  and 
did  not  take  into  account  what  they  contribute  to,  and  how  they 
modify  our  knowledge  of  that  object,  it  is  evident  that  our  con- 
clusion in  regard  to  the  nature  of  external  perception  would  be 
erroneous.     Again,  an  object  of  perception  may  not  even  stand 
in  immediate  relation  to  the  organ  of  sense,  but  may  make  its 
impression    on   that   organ    thi-ough   an    intervening   medium. 
Now,  if  this  medium  be  thrown  out  of  account,  and  if  it  be  not 
considered  that  the  real  external  object  is  the  sum  of  all  that 
externally  contributes  to  affect  the  sense,  we  shall,  in  like  man- 
ner, run  into  error.     For  example,  I  see  a  book,  —  I  see  that 
book  through  an  external  medium  (what  that  medium  is,  we  do 
not  now  inquire),  —  and  I  see  it  through  my  organ  of  sight,  the 
eye.     Now,  -as  the  full  object  presented  to  the  mind  (observe 
that  I  say  the  mind),  in  perception,  is  an  object  compounded  of 
(1.)  the  external  object  emitting  or  reflecting  light,  i,  e.  modify- 
ing the  external  medium,  of  (2.)  this  external  medium,  and  of 
(3.)  the  living  organ  of  sense,  in  their  mutual  relation,  —  let  us 
suppose,  in   the  example  I  have  taken,  that  the  full  or  ade- 
quate object  perceived  is  equal  to  twelve,  and  that  this  amount 
is  made  up  of  three  several  parts,  —  of  four  contributed  by  the 
book,  —  of  four  contributed  by  all   that  intervenes  between  tho 
book  and   the  organ,  and   of  four  contributed  by  the  living 
organ  itself. 


I  use  this  illustration  to  show,  that  the  pha3nomenon  of  the 
external  object  is  not  presented  immediately  to  the  mind,  but  is 
known  by  it  only  as  modified  through  certain  intermediate 
ao-encies ;  and  to  show  that  sense  itself  may  be  a  source  of 
error,  if  we  do  not  analyze  and  distinguish  what  elements,  in 
an  act  of  perception,  belong  to  the  outward  reality,  what  to  the 
outward  medium,  and  what  to  the  action  of  sense  itself.  But 
this  source  of  error  is  not  limited  to  our  perceptions  ;  and  we 
are  liable  to  be  deceived,  not  merely  by  not  distinguishing  in  an 
act  of  knowledge  what  is  contributed  by  sense,  but  by  not  dis- 
tinguishing what  is  contributed  by  the  mind  itself.  This  is  the 
most  difficult  and  important  function  of  philosophy  ;  and  the 
greater  number  of  its  higher  problems  arise  in  the  attempt  to 
determine  the  shares  to  which  the  knowing  subject,  and  the 
object  known,  may  pretend  in  the  total  act  of  cognition.  For 
according  as  we  attribute  a  larger  or  a  smaller  proportion  to 
each,  we  either  run  into  the  extremes  of  Idealism  and  Materi- 
alism, or  maintain  an  equilibrium  between  the  two. 

In  what  sense  human  knowledge  is  relative.  —  From  what  has 
been  said,  you  will  be  able,  I  hope,  to  understand  what  is  meant 
by  the  proposition,  that  all  our  knowledge  is  only  relative.  It 
is  relative,  1°,  Because  existence  is  not  cognizable,  absolutely 
and  in  itself,  but  only  in  special  modes;  2°,  Because  these 
modes  can  be  known  only  if  they  stand  in  a  certain  relation  to 
our  faculties  ;  and  3°,  Because  the  modes  thus  relative  to  our 
faculties  are  presented  to,  and  knowTi  by,  the  mind  only  under 
modifications  determined  by  these  faculties  themselves. 

Two  series  of  expressions  applied  to  human  knowledge.  —  This 
general  doctrine  being  premised,  it  will  be  proper  now  to  take 
some  special  notice  of  the  several  terms  significant  of  the 
relative  nature  of  our  knowledge.  And  here  there  are  two 
opposite  series  of  expressions,  —  1°,  Those  which  denote  the 
relative  and  the  known ;  2°,  Those  which  denote  the  absolute 
and  the  unknown.  Of  the  former  class,  are  the  words  phcenom- 
enon,  mode,  modification,  state,  —  words  which  are  employed  in 
the  definition  of  Psychology ;  and  to  these  may  be  added  the 
analogous   terms,  —  quality,  property,  attribute,  accident.     Of 


96 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


97 


the  latter  class,  —  that  is,  the  absolute  and  the  unknown,  —  is 
the  word  subject,  which  we  have  to  explain  as  an  element  of 
the  definition,  and  its  analogous  expressions,  substance  and  sub- 
stratum. These  opposite  classes  cannot  be  explained  apart ; 
for,  as  each  is  correlative  of  the  other,  each  can  be  cpmpre- 
hended  only  in  and  through  its  correlative. 

The  term  subject  (subjectum,  v7i6aza<Jig,  vTtoxei^evov)  is  used 
to  denote  the  unknown  basis  which  lies  under  the  various  pha?- 
nomena  or  properties  of  which  we  become  aware,  whether  in 
our  internal  or  external  experience.  Li  the  more  recent  phi- 
losophy, especially  in  that  of  Germany,  it  has,  however,  been 
principally  employed  to  denote  the  basis  of  the  various  mental 
phaenomena ;  but  of  this  special  signification  we  are  hereafter 
more  particularly  to  speak. 

The  word  substance  (substantia)  may  be  employed  in  two, 
but  two  kindred,  meanings.  It  may  be  used  either  to  denote 
that* which  exists  absolutely  and  of  itself;  in  this  sense,  it 
may  be  viewed  as  derived  from  subsistendo,  and  as  meaning 
ens  per  se  subsistens  ;  or  it  may  be  viewed  as  the  basis  of  attri- 
butes, in  which  sense  it  may  be  regarded  as  derived  from  sitb- 
stando,  and  as  meaning  id  quod  substat  accidentibus,  like  the 
Greek  vnooraoig,  vnoxeifievov.  In  either  case,  it  will,  however, 
signify  the  same  thing  viewed  in  a  diiferent  aspect.  In  the 
former  meaning,  it  is  considered  in  contrast  to,  and  independent 
of,  its  attributes  ;  in  the  latter,  as  conjoined  with  these,  and  as 
affording  them  the  condition  of  existence.  In  different  rela- 
tions, a  thing  may  be  at  once  considered  as  a  substance,  and  as 
an  attribute,  quality,  or  mode.  This  paper  is  a  substance,  in 
relation  to  the  attribute  of  white  ;  but  it  is  itself  a  mode  in 
relation  to  the  substance,  matter.  Substance  is  thus  a  term  for 
the  substratum  we  are  obliged  to  think  to  all  that  we  variously 
denominate  a  mode,  a  state,  a  quality,  an  attribute,  a  property,  an 
accident,  a  phcenomenon,  an  appearance,  etc.  These,  though 
expressions  generically  the  same,  are,  however,  used  with  spe- 
cific distinctions.  The  terms  mode,  state,  quality,  attribute, 
property,  accident,  are  employed  in  reference  to  a  substance,  as 
existing ;  the  terms  phcenomenon,  appearance,  etc.  in  reference 


to  it,  as  known.  But  each  of  these  expressions  has  also  its  pe- 
culiar signification.  A  mode  is  the  manner  of  the  existence  of 
a  thing.  Take,  for  example,  a  piece  of  wax.  The  wax  may 
be  round,  or  square,  or  of  any  other  definite  figure  ;  it  may  also 
be  sohd  or  fluid.  Its  existence  in  any  of  these  modes  is  not 
essential ;  it  may  change  from  one  to  the  other  without  any 
substantial  alteration.  As  the  mode  cannot  exist  without  a 
substance,  we  can  afford  to  it  only  a  secondary  or  precarious 
existence  in  relation  to  the  suljstance,  to  which  we  accord  the 
privilege  of  existing  by  itself,  per  se  existere ;  but  though  the 
substance  be  not  astricted  to  any  particular  mode  of  existence, 
we  must  not  suppose  that  it  can  exist,  or,  at  least,  be  conceived 
by  us  to  exist,  in  none.  All  modes  are,  therefore,  variable 
states ;  and  though  some  mode  is  necessary  for  the  existence  of 
a  thing,  any  individual  mode  is  accidental.  The  word  modijica- 
iion  is  properly  the  bringing  a  thing  into  a  certain  mode  of 
existence,  but  it  is  very  commonly  employed  for  the  mode  of 
existence  itself.  State  is  a  term  nearly  synonymous  with  mode, 
but  of  a  meaning  more  extensive,  as  not  exclusively  limited  to 
the  mutable  and  contingent 

Quality  is,  likewise,  a  word  of  a  wider  signification,  for  there 
arc  essential  and  accidental  qualities.*  The  essential  qualities 
of  a  thing  are  those  aptitudes,  those  manners  of  existence  and 
action,  which  it  cannot  lose  without  ceasing  to  be.  For  exam- 
ple, in  man,  the  faculties  of  sense  and  intelligence  ;  in  body,  the 
dimensions  of  length,  breadth,  and  thickness ;  in  God,  the  attri- 
butes of  eternity,  omniscience,  omnipotence,  etc.  By  accidental 
qualities,  are  meant  those  aptitudes  and  manners  of  existence 
and  action,  which  substances  have  at  one  time  and  not  at 
another ;  or  which  they  have  always,  but  may  lose  without 
ceasing  to  be.  For  example,  of  the  transitory  class  are  the 
whiteness  of  a  wall,  the  health  which  we  enjoy,  tlie  fineness  of 
tlie  weather,  etc.  Of  the  permanent  class  are  the  gravity  of 
bodies,  the  periodical  movement  of  the  planets,  etc. 


*  The  term  quality  should,  iu  strictness,  be  confined  to  accidental  attri- 
butes. 

9 


98 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


The  term  attribute  is  a  word  properly  convertible  with  qual- 
ity, for  every  quality  is  an  attribute,  and  every  attribute  is  a 
quality ;  but,  in  our  language,  custom  has  introduced  a  certain 
distinction  in  their  application.  Attribute  is  considered  as  a 
word  of  loftier  significance,  and  is,  therefore,  conveniently 
limited  to  qualities  of  a  higher  application.  Thus,  for  exam- 
ple, it  would  be  felt  as  indecorous  to  speak  of  the  qualities  of 
God,  and  as  ridiculous  to  talk  of  the  attributes  of  matter. 

Property  is  correctly  a  synonym  for  peculiar  quality  ;  *  but 
it  is  frequently  used  as  coextensive  with  quality  in  general. 
Accident,  on  the  contrary,  is  an  abbreviated  expression  for  acci- 
dental or  contingent  quality. 

Ph(Bnomenon  is  the  Greek  word  for  that  which  appears,  and 
may,  therefore,  be  translated  by  appearance.  There  is,  how- 
ever, a  distinction  to  be  noticed.  In  the  first  place,  the  employ- 
ment of  the  Greek  term  shows  that  it  is  used  in  a  strict  and 
philosophical  application.  In  the  second  place,  the  English 
name  is  associated  with  a  certain  secondary  or  implied  mean- 
ing, which,  in  some  degree,  renders  it  inappropriate  as  a  pre- 
cise and  definite  expression.  For  the  term  appearance  is  used 
to  denote  not  only  that  which  reveals  itself  to  our  observation, 
as  existent,  but  also  to  signify  that  which  only  seems  to  be,  in 
contrast  to  that  which  truly  is.  There  is  thus  not  merely  a 
certain  vagueness  in  the  word,  but  it  even  involves  a  kind  of 
contradiction  to  the  sense  in  which  it  is  used  when  employed 
for  phmiomenon.  In  consequence  of  this,  the  term  phcenome- 
non  has  been  naturalized  in  our  language,  as  a  philosophical 
substitute  for  the  term  appearance. 

*  In  the  older  and  Aristotelian  sense  of  the  term.  By  the  later  Logicians, 
the  term  property  was  less  correctly  used  to  denote  a  necessary  quality, 
whether  peculiar  or  not.  —  English  Ed. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

EXPLICATIOX   OF   TERMS    COXTIXUED. 

Recapitulation.  —  In  the  last  chapter,  I  illustrated  the  prin- 
ciple, that  all  our  knowledge  of  mind  and  matter  is  merely 
relative.  We  know,  and  can  know,  nothing  absolutely  and  in 
itself;  all  that  we  know  is  existence  in  certain  special  forms  or 
modes,  and  these,  likewise,  only  in  so  far  as  they  may  be  analo- 
gous to  our  faculties.  We  may  suppose  existence  to  have  a 
thousand  modes ;  —  but  these  thousand  modes  are  all  to  us  as 
zero,  unless  we  possess  faculties  accommodated  to  their  appre- 
hension. But  were  the  number  of  our  facukies  coextensive 
with  the  modes  of  being,  —  had  we,  for  each  of  these  thousand 

modes,  a  separate  organ  competent  to  make  it  known  to  us, 

still  would  our  whole  knowledge  be,  as  it  is  at  present,  only  of 
the  relative.  Of  existence,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  we  should 
then  be  as  ignorant  as  we  are  now.  We  should  still  apprehend 
existence  only  in  certain  special  modes,  —  only  in  certain  rela- 
tions to  our  faculties  of  knowledf>-e. 

These  relative  modes,  whether  belonging  to  the  world  with- 
out, or  to  the  world  within,  are,  under  different  points  of  view, 
and  different  limitations,  known  under  various  names,  as  quali- 
ties,  properties,  essence,  accidents,  phcenomena,  manifestations, 
appearances,  and  so  forth  ;  —  whereas  the  unknown  sometliing 
of  which  they  are  the  modes,  —  the  unknown  ground,  which 
affords  them  support,  is  usually  termed  their  substance  or  sub- 
ject. Substance  {substantia),  I  noticed,  is  considered  either  in 
conirast  to  its  accidents,  as  res  per  se  subsistens,  or  in  connection 
with  them,  as  id  quod  substat  accidentibus.  It,  therefore,  com- 
prehends both  the  Greek  terms  ovaia  and  v7toxei\usvov,  —  ovoia 
being  equivalent  to  substantia  in  the  meaning  of  ens  per  se  sub- 

(99) 


100 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS- 


EXPLICATION  OF  TEIiMS. 


101 


sistens ;  —  vnoyiEijizvov  to  it,  as  id  quod  suhstat  accidentibus. 
The  term  subject  is  used  only  for  substance  in  its  second  mean- 
ing, and  thus  corresponds  to  vTtoxstjtevov  ;  its  literal  signification 
is,  as  its  etymology  expresses,  that  which  lies,  or  is  iJaced, 
under  the  phienomena. 

Three  different  errors  regarding  Substance.  —  I  at  present 
avoid  entering  into  the  metaphysics  of  substance  and  phe- 
nomenon. I  shall  only  observe,  in  general,  that  philosophers 
have  frc(|uently  fallen  into  one  or  other  of  three  different  errors. 
Some  have  denied  the  reality  of  any  unknown  ground  of  the 
known  phienomena ;  and  have  maintained  tliat  mind  and  matter 
have  no  substantial  existence,  but  are  merely  the  two  comple- 
ments of  two  series  of  associated  qualities.  This  doctrine  is, 
however,  altogether  futile.  It  belies  the  veracity  of  our  pri- 
mary beliefs ;  it  leaves  unsatisfied  the  strongest  necessities  of 
our  intellectual  nature  ;  it  admits  as  a  fact  that  the  jdiicnomena 
are  connected,  but  allows  no  cause  explanatory  of  the  fact  of 
their  connection.  Others,  again,  have  fallen  into  an  opposite 
error.  They  have  endeavored  to  speculate  concerning  the 
nature  of  the  unknown  grounds  of  the  phaenomena  of  mind  and 
matter,  apart  from  the  phoenomena,  and  have,  accordingly, 
transcended  the  legitimate  sphere  of  philosophy.  A  third  party 
have  taken  some  one,  or  more,  of  the  pha?nomena  themselves  as 
the  basis  or  substratum  of  the  others.  Thus  Descartes,  at  least 
as  understood  and  followed  by  Malebranche  and  others  of  his 
disciples,  made  thought  or  consciousness  convertible  with  the 
substance  of  mind ;  and  Bishops  Brown  and  Law,  with  Dr. 
Watts,  constituted  solidity  and  extension  into  the  substance  of 
body.  This  theory  is,  however,  liable  to  all  the  objections  which 
may  be  alleged  against  the  first. 

I  defined  Psychology,  the  science  conversant  about  the  phce- 
nomena  of  the  mind,  or  conscious-subject,  or  self,  or  ego.  The 
former  parts  of  the  definition  have  been  exidained ;  the  tenns 
mind,  conscious-subject,  self,  and  ego,  come  now  to  be  considered. 
These  are  all  only  expressions  for  the  unknown  basis  of  the 
mental  plitenomena,  viewed,  however,  in  different  relations. 

What  we  mean  by  mind.  —  Of  these  the  word  mind  is  the 


first.  In  regard  to  the  etymology  of  this  term,  it  is  obscure 
and  doubtful ;  perhaps,  indeed,  none  of  the  attempts  to  trace  it 
to  its  origin  are  successful.  It  seems  to  hold  an  analogy  with 
the  Latin  77iens,  and  both  are  probably  derived  from  the  same 
common  root.  This  root,  which  is  lost  in  the  European  lan- 
guages of  Scytho-Indian  origin,  is  probably  preserved  in  the 
Sanscrit  mena,  to  know  or  understand.  The  Greek  vovg,  intel- 
ligence, is,  in  like  manner,  derived  from  a  verb  of  precisely  the 
same  meaning  (yam).  The  word  mind  is  of  more  limited  sig- 
nification than  the  term  soul.  In  the  Greek  philosophy,  the 
term  ^pviij,  sotd,  comprehends,  besides  the  sensitive  and  rational 
principle  in  man,  the  principle  of  organic  life,  both  in  the  ani- 
mal and  vegetable  kingdoms ;  and,  in  Christian  theology,  it  is 
hkewise  used,  in  contrast  to  nvsv^a  or  spirit,  in  a  vaguer  and 
more  extensive  signification. 

Since  Descartes  limited  Psychology  to  the  domain  of  con- 
sciousness, the  term,  mind  has  been  rigidly  employed  for  the 
self-knowing  principle  alone.  Mind,  therefore,  is  to  be  under- 
stood as  the  subject  of  the  various  internal  pha?nomena  of  which 
we  are  conscious,  or  that  subject  of  wliich  consciousness  is  the 
general  phoenomenon.  Consciousness  is,  in  fact,  to  the  mind 
what  extension  is  to  matter  or  body.  Though  both  are  phoe- 
nomena, yet  both  are  essential  qualities ;  for  we  can  neither 
conceive  mind  without  consciousness,  nor  body  without  exten- 
sion. Mind  can  be  defined  only  a  posteriori,  —  that  is,  only 
from  its  manifestations.  What  it  is  in  itself,  that  is,  apart  from 
its  manifestations, —  we,  philosophically,  know  nothing,  and, 
accordingly,  what  we  mean  by  mind  is  simply  that  which  per- 
ceives, thinks,  feels,  wills,  desires,  etc.  Mind,  with  us,  is  thus 
nearly  coextensive  with  the  Rational  and  Animal  souls  of  Aris- 
totle ;  for  the  faculty  of  voluntary  motion,  which  is  a  function 
of  the  animal  soul  in  the  Peripatetic  doctrine,  ought  not,  as  is 
generally  done,  to  be  excluded  from  the  phjenomena  of  con- 
sciousness and  mind. 

Consciousness  and  Conscious-sulject.  —  The  next  term  to  be 
considered  is  conscious-sulject.  And  first,  what  is  it  to  be  con- 
scious ?     Without  anticipating  the  discussion  relative  to  con- 

9* 


102 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


sciousness,  as  the  fundamental  function  of  intelligence,  I  may, 
at  present,  simply  indicate  to  you  what  an  act  of  consciousness' 
denotes.     This  act  is  of  the  most  elementary  character ;  it  is 
the  condition  of  all  knowledge ;  I  cannot,  therefore,  define  it  to 
you ;  but,  as  you  are  all  familiar  with  the  thing,  it  is  easy  to 
enable  you  to  connect  the  thing  with  the  word.     I  know,  —  I 
desire,  —  I  feel.     What  is   it   that   is   common  to   all  these  ? 
Knowing  and  desiring  and  feeling  are  not  the  same,  and  may 
be  distinguished.     But  they  all  agree  in  one  fundamental  condi- 
tion.    Can    I   know,  without  knowing  that  I  know?     Can  I 
desire,  without  knowing  that  I  desire?     Can  I  feel,  without 
blowing  that  I  feel  ?     This  is  impossible.     Now  this  knowing 
that  I  know  or  desire  or  feel,  —  this  common  condition  of  self^ 
knowledge,  is  precisely  what  is  denominated  Consciousness. 

[Consciousness  is  a  knowledge  solely  of  what  is  now  and  here 
present  to  the  mind.  .  .  .  Again,  Consciousness  is  a  knowledge 
of  all  that  is  now  and  here  present  to  the  mind ;  every  imme- 
diate object  of  cognition  is  thus  an  object  of  consciousness,  and 
every  intuitive  cognition  itself  is  simply  a  special  form  of  con- 
sciousness. 

Consciousness  comprehends  every  cognitive  act;  in  other 
words,  whatever  we  are  not  conscious  of,  that  we  do  not  know. 
.  .  .  The  actual  modifications  —  the  present  acts  and  affections 
of  the  Ego,  are  objects  of  immediate  cognition,  as  themselves 
objects  of  Consciousness.]  —  Diss,  siipp,  to  Eeid, 

So  much  at  present  for  the  adjective  of  conscious ;  now  for 
the  substantive,  subject,  —  conscious-subject.  Though  conscious- 
ness be  the  condition  of  all  internal  phienomena,  still  it  is  itself 
only  a  plui^nomenon  ;  and,  therefore,  supposes  a  subject  in  which 
it  inheres ;  —  that  is,  supposes  something  that  is  conscious,  — 
something  that  manifests  itself  as  conscious.  And,  since  con- 
sciousness comprises  within  its  sphere  the  whole  pha?nomena  of 
mind,  the  expression  conscious-subject  is  a  brief,  but  comprehen- 
sive, definition  of  mind  itself. 

I  have  already  informed  you  of  the  general  meaning  of  the 
word  subject  in  its  philosophical  application,  —  namely,  the 
unknown  basis  of  pha}nomenal  or  manifested  existence.     It  is 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


103 


thus,  in  its  application,  common  equally  to  the  external  and  to 
the  internal  worlds.  But  the  philosophers  of  mind  have,  in  a 
mimner,  usurped  and  appropriated  this  expression  to  themselves. 
Accordingly,  in  their  hands,  the  phrases  conscious  or  thinking 
subject,  and  subject  simply,  mean  precisely  the  same  thing ;  and 
custom  has  prevailed  so  far,  that,  in  psychological  discussions, 
the  subject  is  a  term  now  currently  employed,  throughout  Eu- 
rope, for  the  mind  or  thinking  principle. 

Use  of  the  term  Subject  vindicated.  —  The  question  here 
occurs,  what  is  the  reason  of  this  employment  ?  If  miiid  and 
subject  are  only  convertible  terms,  why  multiply  synonyms  ? 
Why  exchange  a  precise  and  proximate  expression  for  a  vague 
and  abstract  generality  ?  The  question  is  pertinent,  and  merits 
a  reply ;  for  unless  it  can  be  shown  tliat  the  word  is  necessary, 
its  introduction  cannot  possibly  be  vindicated.  Now,  the  utility 
of  this  expression  is  founded  on  two  circumstances.  The  first, 
that  it  affords  an  adjective ;  the  second,  that  the  terms  subject 
and  subjective  have  opposing  relatives  in  the  terms  object  and 
objective,  so  that  the  two  pairs  of  words  together  enable  us  to 
designate  the  primary  and  most  important  analysis  and  antithe- 
sis of  philoj^ophy,  in  a  more  precise  and  emphatic  manner  than 
can  be  done  by  any  other  technical  expressions.  This  will 
require  some  illustration. 

Terms  Subjective  and  Objective.  —  Subject,  we  have  seen,  is 
a  term  for  that  in  which  the  pha?nomena  revealed  to  our  obser- 
vation inhere  ;  —  what  the  schoolmen  have  designated  the 
materia  in  qua.  Limited  to  the  mental  phoenomena,  subject, 
therefore,  denotes  the  mind  itself;  and  subjective,  that  which 
belongs  to,  or  proceeds  from,  the  thinking  subject.  Object,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  a  term  for  that  about  which  the  knowinor  sub- 
ject  is  conversant,  what  the  schoolmen  have  styled  the  materia 
circa  qitam  ;  while  objective  means  that  which  belongs  to,  or 
proceeds  from,  the  object  known,  and  not  from  the  subject 
knowing ;  and  thus  denotes  what  is  real  in  opposition  to  what 
is  ideal,  —  what  exists  in  nature,  in  contrast  to  what  exists 
merely  in  the  thought  of  the  individual.  All  knowledge  is  a 
relation — a  relation  between  that  which   knows  (in  scholastic 


104 


EXPLICATION   OF  TERMS. 


language,  the  subject  in  which  knowledge  inheres),  and  that 
which  is  known  (in  ^^cliolastic  language,  the  object  about  which 
knowledge  is  conversant)  ;  and  the  contents  of  every  act  of 
knowledge  are  made  up  of  elements,  and  regulated  by  law,>, 
proceeding  partly  from  its  object  and  partly  from  its  subject. 
Now  philosophy  proper  is  principally  and  primarily  the  science 
of  knowledge ;  its  first  and  most  important  problem  being  to  de- 
termine—  What  can  we  hiow^  that  is,  what  are  the  conditions 
of  our  knowing,  whether  these  lie  in  the  nature  of  the  object, 
or  in  the  nature  of  the  subject,  of  knowledge  ? 

[But  Philosophy  being  the  Science  of  knowledge  ;  and  the 
science  of  knowledge  supposing,  in  its  most  fundamental  and 
thorough-going  analysis,  the  distinction  of  the  subject  and  object 
of  knowledge  ;  it  is  evident,  that,  to  philosophy,  the  sulject  of 
knowledge  would  be,  by  preeminence,  The  Subject,  and  the  olject 
of  knowledge,  by  preeminence,  The  Object.  It  was,  therefore, 
natural  that  the  object  and  the  objective,  the  subject  and  the  sub- 
jective, should  be  employed  by  pliilosophers  as  simple  terms, 
compendiously  to  denote  the  grand  discrimination  about  which 
philosopliy  was  constantly  employed,  and  which  no  others  could 
be  found  so  precisely  and  promptly  to  express.  In  fact,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  special  meaning  given  to  objective  in  the 
Schools,  their  employment  in  this,  their  natural  relation,  would 
probably  have  been  of  a  much  earlier  date  ;  not,  however,  that 
they  are  void  of  ambiguity,  and  have  not  been  often  abusively 
employed.  This  arises  from  the  following  circumstance:  — 
The  subject  of  knowledge  is,  exclusively,  the  Ego  or  conscious 
mind.  Subject  and  subjective,  considered  in  themselves,  are 
therefore  little  liable  to  equivocation.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  object  of  knowledge  is  not  necessarily  a  pha^nomenon  of  the 
Non-ego ;  for  the  pha^nomena  of  the  Ego  itself  constitute  as 
veritable,  though  not  so  various  and  prominent,  objects  of  cog- 
nition, as  the  pluenomena  of  the  Non-ego. 

Subjective  and  objective  do  not,  therefore,  thoroughly  and  ade- 
quately discriminate  that  which  belongs  to  mind,  and  that  which 
belongs  to  matter;  they  do  not  even  competently  distinguish 
what  is  deperidenU  from  what  is  independent,  on  the  coriditions 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


105 


of  the  mental  self  But  in  these  significations  they  are  and  must 
be  frequently  employed.  Without,  therefore,  discarding  this 
nomenclature,  which,  so  far  as  it  goes,  expresses,  in  general,  a 
distinction  of  the  highest  importance,  in  the  most  apposite 
terms;  these  terms  may,  by  qualification,  easily  be  rendered 
adequate  to  those  subordinate  discriminations,  which  it  is  often 
requisite  to  signalize,  but  which  they  cannot  simply  and  of  them- 
selves denote. 

Subject  and  subjective,  without  any  qualifying  attribute,  I 
would  therefore  employ,  as  has  hitherto  been  done,  to  mark  out 
what  inheres  in,  pertains  to,  or  depends  on,  the  knowing  mind, 
whether  of  man  in  general,  or  of  this  or  that  individual  man  in 
particular ;  and  this  in  contrast  to  object  and  objective,  as  ex- 
pressing what  does  not  so  inhere,  pertain,  and  depend.  Thus, 
for  example,  an  art  or  science  is  said  to  be  objective,  when 
considered  simply  as  a  system  of  speculative  truths  or  practical 
rules,  but  without  respect  of  any  actual  possessor  ;  subjective, 
when  considered  as  a  habit  of  knowledge  or  dexterity,  inherent 
in  the  mind,  either  vaguely  of  any,  or  precisely  of  this  or  that, 
possessor. 

But,  as  has  been  stated,  an  object  of  knowledge  may  be  a 
mode  of  mind,  or  it  may  be  something  different  from  mind ; 
and  it  is  frequently  of  importance  to  indicate  precisely  under 
which  of  these  classes  that  object  comes.  In  this  case,  by  an 
internal  development  of  the  nomenclature  itself,  we  might 
employ,  on  the  former  alternative,  the  term  subject-object ;  on 
the  latter,  the  term  object-object. 

But  the  subject-object  may  be  either  a  mode  of  mind,  of 
which  we  are  conscious  as  absolute  and  for  itself  alone,  —  as, 
for  example,  a  pain  or  pleasure ;  or  a  mode  of  mind,  of  which 
wc  are  conscious,  as  relative  to,  and  representative  of  something 
else,  —  as,  for  instance,  the  imagination  of  something  past  or 
possible.  Of  these  we  might  distinguish,  when  necessary,  the 
one,  as  the  absolute  or  the  real  subject-object,  the  other,  as  the 
relative,  or  the  ideal,  or  the  representative,  subject-object. 

Finally,  it  may  be  required  to  mark  whether  the  object-olject 
and  the  subject-object  be  immediately  known  as  present,  or  only 


106 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


107 


as  represented.  In  this  case  we  must  resort,  on  the  former 
alternative,  to  the  epithet  presentative  or  intuitive  ;  on  the  lat- 
ter,  to  those  of  represented,  mediate,  remote,  primary,  princi- 
pal, etc.']  —  Diss,  supp.  to  Reid. 

Now,  the  great  problem  of  philosophy  is,  to  analyze  the  con- 
tents of  our  acts  of  knowledge  or  cognitions,  —  to  distinguish 
what  elements  are  contributed  by  the  knowing  subject,  wha^  ele- 
ments by  the  object  known.  There  must,  therefore,  be  terms 
adequate  to  designate  these  correlative  opposites,  and  to  dis- 
criminate the  share  which  each  has  in  the  total  act  of  co-nition 
But,  if  we  reject  the  terms  subject  and  subjective,  ohfect  and 
obfective,  there  are  no  others  competent  to  the  purpose. 

At  this  stage  of  your  progress,  it  is  not  easy  to  make  you 
aware  of  the  paramount  necessity  of  such  a  distinction,  and  of 
such  terms,  —  or  to  show  you  how,  from  the  want  of  words  ex- 
pressive of  this  primary  antithesis,  the  mental  philosophy  of 
[Great   Britain]    has  been    checked  in  its  development,  and 
involved  m  the  utmost  perplexity  and  misconception.    It  is  suffi- 
cient to  remark  at  present,  that  to  this  defect  in  tlie  lan-uao-e  of 
his  psychological  analysis,  is,  in  a  great  measure,  to  be  attributed 
the  confusion,  not  to  say  the  errors,  of  Reid,  in  tlie  very  cardi- 
nal point  of  his  philosophy,  —  a  confusion  so  great  that  the 
whole  tendency  of  his  doctrine  was  misconceived  by  Brown, 
who,  m  adopting  a  modification  of  the  hypothesis  of  a  repre- 
sentative perception,  seems  not  even  to  have  suspected,  that  he 
and  Reid,  and  modern  philosophers  in  general,  were  not  in  this 
at  one.     The  terms  subjective  and  objective  denote  the  primary 
distinction  in  consciousness  of  self  and  not-self,  and  this  dis- 
tinction  involves  the  whole  science  of  mind;  for  this  science  is 
nothing  more  than  a  determination  of  the  subjective  and  objec- 
tive,  m  themselves  and  in  their  mutual  relations.     The  distinc- 
tion IS  of  paramount  importance,  and  of  infinite  application,  not 
only  m  Philosophy  proper,  but  in  Grammar,   Rhetoric,  Criti- 
cism, Ethics,  Politics,  Jurisi)rudence,  Theology.     I  wiU  give 
you  an  example,- a  philological  example.     Suppose  a  lexi- 
cographer had  to  distinguish  the  two  meanings  of  the  word  cer- 
tamty.     Certainty  expresses  either  the  firm  conviction  which 


we  have  of  the  truth  of  a  thing ;  or  the  character  of  the  proof 
on  which  its  reality  rests.  The  former  is  the  subjective  mean- 
ing ;  the  latter  the  objective.  By  what  other  terms  can  they  be 
distinguished  and  described  ? 

History  of  the  terms  Subject  and  Object,  —  The  distinction  of 
subject  and  object,  as  marking  out  the  fundamental  and  most 
thorough-going  antithesis  in  philosophy,  we  owe,  among  many 
other  important  benefits,  to  the,  schoohnen,  and  from  the  school- 
men the  terms  passed,  both  in  their  substantive  and  adjective 
forms,  into  the  scientific  language  of  modern  philosophers. 
Deprived  of  these  terms,  the  Critical  Philosophy,  indeed  the 
whole  philosophy  of  Germany  and  France,  would  be  a  blank. 
In  [Great  Britain],  though  familiarly  employed  in  scientific  lan- 
guage, even  subsequently  to  the  time  of  Locke,  the  adjective 
forms  seem  at  length  to  have  dropt  out  of  the  English  tongue. 
That  these  words  waxed  obsolete,  was,  perhaps,  caused  by  the 
ambiguity  which  had  gradually  crept  into  the  signification  of 
the  substantives.  Object,  besides  its  proper  signification,  came  to 
be  abusively  applied  to  denote  77iotive,  etid,  final  cause  (a  mean- 
ing, by  the  way,  not  recognized  by  Johnson).  This  innovation 
was  probably  borrowed  from  the  French,  in  whose  language  the 
word  had  been  similarly  corrui)ted,  after  the  commencement  of 
the  last  century.  Subject  in  English,  as  sujet  in  French,  had 
not  been  rightly  distinguished  from  object,  taken  in  its  proper 
meaning,  and  had  thus  returned  to  the  original  ambiguity  of  the 
corresponding  term  (vtzoxei^evov)  in  Greek.  It  is  probable  that 
the  logical  application  of  the  word  (subject  of  predication) 
facilitated  or  occasioned  this  confusion.  In  usin^  the  terms, 
therefore,  we  think  that  an  explanation,  but  no  apology,  is  re- 
quired. The  distinction  is  expressed  by  no  other  terms  ;  and 
if  these  did  not  already  enjoy  a  prescriptive  right  as  denizens 
of  the  language,  it  cannot  be  denied,  that,  as  strictly  analogical, 
they  are  well  entitled  to  sue  out  their  naturalization.  We  shall 
have  frequent  occasion  to  recur  to  this  distinction,  —  and  it  is 
eminently  worthy  of  your  attention. 

Self,  Ego  —  illustrated  from  Plato,  —  The  last  parallel  ex- 
pressions are  the  terms  self  and  ego.     These  we  shall  take 


108 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


109 


together,  as  they  are  absolutely  convertible.  As  the  best  prepar- 
ative for  the  proper  understanding  of  these  terms,  I  shall  trans- 
late to  you  a  passage  from  the  First  Alcihiades  of  Plato.  The 
interlocutors  are  Socrates  and  Alcibiades. 

"  Socr.  Hold,  now,  with  whom  do  you  at  present  converse  ? 
Is  it  not  with  me  ?  —  Alcib.    Yes. 

Socr.   And  I  also  with  you  ?  —  Alcib.    Yes. 

Socr.    It  is  Socrates  then  who  speaks  ?  —  Alcib.    Assuredly. 

Socr.   And  Alcibiades  who  listens  ? —  Alcib.    Yes. 

Socr.  Is  it  not  with  language  that  Socrates  speaks  ?  —  Alcib. 
What  now  ?  of  course. 

Socr.  To  converse,  and  to  use  language,  are  not  these  then 
the  same  ?  —  Alcib.   The  very  same. 

Socr.  But  he  who  uses  a  thing,  and  the  thing  used,  —  arc 
these  not  different  ?  —  Alcib.    What  do  you  mean  ? 

Socr.  A  currier,  —  does  he  not  use  a  cutting  knife,  and 
other  instruments  ?  —  Alcib.   Yes. 

Socr.  And  the  man  who  uses  the  cutting  knife,  is  he  differ- 
ent from  the  instrument  he  uses  ?  —  Alcib.    Most  certainly. 

Socr.  In  like  manner,  the  lyrist,  is  he  not  different  from  the 
lyre  he  plays  on  ?  —  Alcib.    Undoubtedly. 

Socr.  This,  then,  was  what  I  asked  you  just  now,  —  does  not 
he  who  uses  a  thing  seem  to  you  always  different  from  the  thing 
used?  —  Alcib.    Very  different. 

Socr.  But  the  currier,  does  he  cut  with  his  instruments  alone, 
or  also  with  his  hands  ?  —  Alcib.   Also  with  his  hands. 

Socr.    He  then  uses  his  hands  ?  —  Alcib.    Yes. 

Socr.    And  in  his  work  he  uses  also  his  eyes  ?  —  Alcib.    Yes. 

Socr.  We  are  agreed,  then,  that  he  who  uses  a  thing,  and 
the  thing  used,  are  different  ?  —  Alcib.   We  are. 

Socr.  The  currier  and  lyrist  are,  therefore,  different  from  the 
hands  and  eyes,  with  which  they  work  ?  —  Alcib.    So  it  seems. 

Socr.  Now,  then,  does  not  a  man  use  his  Avhole  body  ?  — 
Alcib.   Unquestionably. 

Socr.  But  we  are  agreed  that  he  who  uses,  and  that  which 
is  used,  are  different  ?  —  Alcib.   Yes. 

Socr.  A  man  is,  therefore,  different  from  his  body  ?  —  Alcib. 
So  I  think. 


Socr.   What  then  is  the  man  ?  —  Alcib.   I  cannot  say. 

Socr.  You  can  at  least  say  that  the  man  is  that  which  uses 
the  body  ?  —  Alcib.   True. 

Socr.  Now,  does  any  thing  use  the  body  but  the  mind  ?  — 
Alcib.   Nothing. 

Socr.  The  mind  is,  therefore,  the  man  ?  —  Alcib.  The  mind 
alone." 

To  the  same  effect,  Aristotle  asserts  that  the  mind  contains 
the  man,  not  the  man  the  mind.  "  Thou  art  the  soul,"  says 
Hierocles,  "  but  the  body  is  thine." 

The  Self  or  Ego  in  relation  to  bodily  organs,  and  thoughts.  — 
But  let  us  come  to  a  closer  determination  of  the  point ;  let  us 
appeal  to  our  experience.  "  I  turn  my  attention  on  my  being  " 
[says  Gatien-Arnoult],  "  and  find  that  I  have  organs,  and  that 
I  have  thoughts.  My  body  is  the  complement  of  my  organs  ; 
am  I  then  my  body,  or  any  part  of  my  body  ?  This  I  cannot 
be.  The  matter  of  my  body,  in  all  its  points,  is  in  a  perpetual 
flux,  in  a  perpetual  process  of  renewal.  I,  —  /do  not  pass 
away,  I  am  not  renewed.  None  probably  of  the  molecules 
which  constituted  my  organs  some  years  ago,  form  any  part  of 
the  material  system  which  I  now  call  mine.  It  has  been  made 
up  anew  ;  but  I  am  still  what  I  was  of  old.  These  organs  may 
be  mutilated;  one,  two,  or  any  number  of  them  may  be  re- 
moved ;  but  not  the  less  do  I  continue  to  be  what  I  was,  one 
and  entire.  It  is  even  not  impossible  to  conceive  me  existing,  I 
deprived  of  every  organ  ;  I,  therefore,  who  have  these  organs, 
or  this  body,  /am  neither  an  organ  nor  a  body. 

"  Neither  am  I  identical  with  my  thoughts,  for  they  are  man- 
ifold and  various.  I,  on  the  contrary,  am  one  and  the  same. 
Each  moment  they  change  and  succeed  each  other ;  this  change 
and  succession  takes  place  in  me,  but  I  neither  change  nor  suc- 
ceed myself  in  myself.  Each  moment  I  am  aware  or  am 
conscious  of  the  existence  and  change  of  my  thoughts :  this 
change  is  sometimes  determined  by  me,  sometimes  by  some- 
thing different  from  me ;  but  I  always  can  distinguish  myself 
from  them :  I  am  a  pennanent  being,  an  enduring  subject,  of 
whose  existence  these  thoughts  are  only  so  many  modes,  ap- 

10 


110 


EXPLICATION   OF  TERMS. 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


in 


I 


pearances,  or  phaenomena  ;  —  I  who  possess  organs  and  thoughts 
am,  therefore,  neither  these  organs  nor  these  thoughts. 

"I  can  conceive  mysell'  to  exist  apart  from  every  organ. 
But  if  I  try  to  conceive  myself  existent  without  a  thought,  — 
without  some  form  of  consciousness,  —  I  am  unable.  This  or 
that  thought  may  not  be  perhaps  necessary  ;  but  of  some  thought 
it  is  necessary  that  I  should  be  conscious,  otherwise  I  can  no 
longer  conceive  myself  to  be.  A  suspension  of  thought  is  thus 
a  suspension  of  my  intellectual  existence  ;  I  am,  therefore, 
essentially  a  thinking,  —  a  conscious  being;  and  my  true 
character  is  that  of  an  intelligence,  —  an  intelligence  served 
by  organs." 

But  this  thought,  this  consciousness,  is  possible  only  in,  and 
Ihrough,  the  consciousness  of  Self.  The  Self,  the  I,  is  recog- 
iized  in  every  act  of  intelligence,  as  the  subject  to  which  that 
act  belongs.  It  is  I  that  perceive,  I  that  imagine,  I  that  re- 
member, I  that  attend,  I  that  compare,  I  that  feel,  I  that  desire, 
I  that  will,  I  that  am  conscious.  The  I,  indeed,  is  only  man- 
ifested in  one  or  other  of  these  special  modes  ;  but  it  is  mani- 
fested in  them  all ;  they  are  all  only  the  phaenomena  of  the  I, 
and,  therefore,  the  science  conversant  about  the  phaenomena  of 
tlie  mind  is,  most  simply  and  unambiguously,  said  to  be  conver- 
sant about  the  phaenomena  of  the  /or  £go. 

This  expression,  as  that  which,  in  many  relations,  best  marks 
and  discriminates  the  conscious  mind,  has  now  become  familiar 
in  every  country,  with  the  exception  of  our  own.  Why  it  lia^ 
not  been  naturalized  with  us  is  not  unapparent.  The  French 
have  two  words  for  the  Ego  or  I  —  Je  and  3Ioi.  The  former 
of  these  is  less  appropriate  as  an  abstract  term,  being  in  sound 
ambiguous  ;  but  le  moi  admirably  expresses  whr^t  the  Germans 
denote,  but  less  feHcitously,  by  their  Das  Ich.  In  English,  the 
/could  not  be  tolerated  ;  because  in  sound  it  could  not  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  word  significant  of  the  organ  of  sight.  We 
must,  therefore,  renounce  the  term,  or  resort  to  the  Latin  JSgo ; 
and  this  is  perhaps  no  disadvantage,  for,  as  the  word  is  only 
employed  in  a  strictly  philosophical  relation,  it  is  better  that  this 
should  be  distinctly  marked,  by  its  being  used  in  that  relation 


alone.  The  term  Self  is  more  allowable ;  yet  still  the  expres- 
sions Ego  and  Non-Ego  are  felt  to  be  less  awkward  than  those 
of  Self  and  Not-Self. 

So  much  in  explanation  of  the  terms  involved  in  the  defini- 
tion which  I  gave  of  Psychology.  I  now  proceed,  as  I  pro- 
posed, to  the  consideration,  of  a  few  other  words  of  frequent 
occurrence  in  philosophy,  and  which  it  is  expedient  to  explain 
at  once,  before  entering  upon  discussions  in  which  they  will 
continually  recur.  I  take  them  up  without  order,  except  in 
so  far  as  they  may  be  grouped  together  by  their  meaning; 
and  the  first  I  shall  consider,  are  the  terms  hypothesis  and 
theory. 

Hypothesis.  —  When  a  phaenomenon  is  presented  to  us  which 
can  be  explained  by  no  cause  within  the  sphere  of  our  experi- 
ence, we  feel  dissatisfied  and  uneasy.  A  desire  arises  to  escape 
from  this  unpleasing  state ;  and  the  consequence  of  this  desire 
is  an  effort  of  the  mind  to  recall  the  outstanding  phaenomenon 
to  unity,  by  assigning  it,  ad  interim,  to  some  cause,  or  class,  to 
which  we  imagine  that  it  may  possibly  belong,  until  we  shall  be 
able  to  refer  it,  permanently,  to  that  cause,  or  class,  to  which 
we  shall  have  proved  it  actually  to  appertain.  The  judgment 
by  which  the  phaenomenon  is  thus  provisorily  referred,  is  called 
an  hypothesis,  —  a  supposition. 

Hypotheses  have  thus  no  other  end  than  to  satisfy  the  desire 
of  the  mind  to  reduce  the  objects  of  its  knowledge  to  unity  and 
system  ;  and  they  do  this  in  recalling  them,  ad  interim,  to  some 
principle,  through  which  the  mind  is  enabled  to  comprehend 
them.  From  this  view  of  their  nature  it  is  manifest  how  far 
they  are  permissible,  and  how  far  they  are  even  useful  and 
expedient,  —  throwing  altogether  out  of  account  the  possibility 
that  what  is  at  first  assumed  as  hypothetical,  may  subsequently 
be  proved  true. 

Conditions  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis.  —  An  hypothesis  is 
allowable  only  under  certain  conditions.  Of  these  i\iQ  first  is, 
—  that  the  phi«nomenon  to  be  explained  should  be  ascertained 
actually  to  exist.  It  would,  for  example,  be  absurd  to  propose 
an  hypothesis  to  account  for  the  possibihty  of  apparitions,  until 


112 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


it  be  proved  that  ghosts  do  actually  appear.  This  precept,  to 
establish  your  fact  before  you  attempt  to  conjecture  its  cause, 
may,  perhaps,  seem  to  you  too  elementary  to  be  worth  the 
statement.  But  a  longer  experience  will  convince  you  of  the 
contrary.  That  the  enunciation  of  the  rule  is  not  only  not 
superfluous,  but  even  highly  requisite  as  an  admonition,  is 
shown  by  great  and  numerous  examples  of  its  violation  in  the 
history  of  science ;  and,  as  Cullen  has  truly  observed,  there  are 
more  false  facts  current  in  the  world  than  false  hypotheses  to 
explain  them.  There  is,  in  truth,  nothing  which  men  seem  to 
admit  so  lightly  as  an  asserted  fact.  It  would  be  easy  to  ad- 
duce extensive  hypotheses,  very  generally  accredited,  even  at 
the  present  hour,  which  are,  however,  nothing  better  than 
assumptions  founded  on,  or  explanatory  of,  phoenomena  wliich 
do  not  really  exist  in  nature. 

The  second  condition  of  a  permissible  hypothesis  is,  —  that 
the  phfenomenon  cannot  be  explained  otherwise  than  by  an 
hypothesis.  It  would,  for  example,  have  been  absurd,  even 
before  the  discoveries  of  Franklin,  to  account  for  the  phoenom- 
enon  of  lightning  by  the  hypothesis  of  supernatural  agency. 
These  two  conditions,  of  the  reality  of  the  phirnomenon,  and 
the  necessity  of  an  hypothesis  for  its  explanation,  being  fulfilled, 
an  hypothesis  is  allowable. 

Criteria  of  the  excellence  of  an  hypothesis.  —  But  the  neces- 
sity of  some  hypothesis  being  conceded,  how  are  we  to  dis- 
criminate between  a  good  and  a  bad,  —  a  probable  and  an 
improbable,  hypothesis?  The  comparative  excellence  of  an 
hypothesis  requires,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  involve  nothing 
contradictory,  either  internally  or  externally.  —  that  is,  either 
between  the  parts  of  which  it  is  composed,  or  between  these 
and  any  established  truths.  Thus,  the  Ptolemaic  hypothesis 
of  the  heavenly  revolutions  became  worthless,  from  the  moment 
that  it  was  contradicted  by  the  ascertained  pha^nomena  of  the 
planets  Venus  and  Mercury.  Thus  the  Wernerian  hypothesis 
in  geology  is  improbable,  inasmuch  as  it  is  obliged  to  maintain 
that  water  was  originally  able  to  hold  in  solution  substances 
which   it  is   now   incapable    of   dissolving.      The    Huttonian 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


113 


hypothesis,  on  the  contrary,  is  so  far  preferable,  that  it  assumes 
no  effect  to  have  been  produced  by  any  agent,  which  that  agent 
is  not  known  to  be  capable  of  producing.     In  the  second  place, 
an  hypothesis  is  probable  in  proportion  as  the  phaenomenon  in 
question  can  be  by  it  more  completely  explained.     Thus  the 
Copernican  hypothesis  is  more  probable  than  the  Tychonic  and 
semi-Tychonic,  inasmuch  as  it  enables  us  to  explain  a  greater 
number  of  pha^nomena.     In  the  third  place,  an  hypothesis  is 
probable  in  proportion  as  it  is  independent  of  aU  subsidiary 
hypotheses.     In  tins  respect,  again,  the  Copernican  hypothesis 
is  more  probable  than  the  Tychonic.     For,  though  both  save 
all  the  phsenomena,  the  Copernican  does  this  by  one  principal 
assumption  ;  whereas  the  Tychonic  is  obliged  to  call  in  the  aid 
of   several  subordinate   suppositions,  to   render   the   principal 
assumption  available.     So  much  for  hypothesis. 

Theory ;  Practice.  —  I  shall  be  more  concise  in  treating  of 
the  cognate  expression,  —  theory.  This  word  is  employed  by 
English  writers  in  a  very  loose  and  improper  sense.  It  is  with 
them  usually  convertible  with  hypothesis,  and  hypothesis  is 
commonly  used  as  another  term  for  conjecture.  Dr.  Reid, 
indeed,  expressly  does  this  ;  he  identifies  the  two  words,  and 
explains  them  as  philosophical  conjectures,  as  you  may  see  in 
his  First  Essay  on  the  Intellectual  Powers.  This  is,  however, 
wrong ;  ^vrong,  in  relation  to  the  original  employment  of  the 
terms  by  the  ancient  philosophers  ;  and  wrong,  in  relation  to 
their  employment  by  the  philosophers  of  the  modern  nations. 

The  terms  theory  and  theoretical  are  properly  used  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  terms  practice  and  practical;  in  this  sense  they 
were  exclusively  employed  by  the  ancients ;  and  in  this  sense 
they  are  almost  exclusively  employed  by  the  continental  philos- 
ophers. Practice  is  the  exercise  of  an  art,  or  the  application 
of  a  science,  in  life,  which  application  is  itself  an  art,  for  it  is 
not  every  one  who  is  able  to  apply  all  he  knows  ;  there  being  re- 
quired, over  and  above  knowledge,  a  certain  dexterity  and  skill. 
Theory,  on  the  contrary,  is  mere  knowledge  or  science.  There 
is  a  distinction,  but  no  opposition,  between  theory  and  practice ; 
each  to  a  certain  extent  supposes  the  other.     On  the  one  hand, 

10* 


114 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


theory  is  dependent  on  practice  ;  practice  must  have  preceded 
theory  ;  for  theory  being  only  a  generahzation  of  the  principles 
on  which  practice  proceeds,  these  must  originally  have  been 
taken  out  of,  or  abstracted  from,  practice.  On  the  other  hand, 
this  is  true  only  to  a  certain  extent ;  for  there  is  no  practice 
without  a  theory.  The  man  of  practice  must  have  always 
known  something,  however  little,  of  what  he  did,  of  what  he 
intended  to  do,  and  of  the  means  by  wliich  liis  intention  was  to 
be  carried  into  effect.  He  was,  therefore,  not  wholly  ignorant 
of  the  principles  of  his  procedure  ;  he  was  a  limited,  he  was, 
in  some  degree,  an  unconscious,  theorist.  As  he  proceeded, 
however,  in  his  practice,  and  reflected  on  his  performance,  his 
theory  acquired  greater  clearness  and  extension,  so  that  he 
became  at  last  distinctly  conscious  of  what  he  did,  and  could 
give,  to  himself  and  others,  an  account  of  his  procedure. 

"Per  varios  usus  artcm  cxpcrientia  fecit, 
Exemplo  monstrante  viam." 

In  this  view,  theory  is,  therefore,  simply  a  knowledge  of  the 
principles  by  which  practice  accomplishes  its  end. 

The  opposition  of  Theoretical  and  Practical  philosophy  is 
somewhat  different ;  for  these  do  not  stand  simply  related  to 
each  other  as  theory  and  practice.  Practical  philosophy  in- 
volves likewise  a  theory,  —  a  theory,  however,  subordinated  to 
the  practical  application  of  its  principles  ;  while  theoretical  phi- 
losophy has  nothing  to  do  with  practice,  but  terminates  in  mere 
speculative  or  contemplative  knowledge. 

The  next  group  of  associated  words  to  which  I  would  call 
your  attention  is  compo-ed  of  the  terms, — potver,  faculty,  ca- 
pacity, disposition,  habit,  act,  operation,  energy,  function,  etc. 

Power.  Iteid's  criticism  of  Locke.  —  Of  these  the  first  is 
power,  and  the  explanation  of  this,  in  a  manner,  involves  that 
of  all  tlie  others. 

I  have,  in  the  first  place,  to  correct  an  error  of  Dr.  Reid,  in 
relation  to  this  term,  in  his  criticism  of  Locke's  statement  of  its 
import.  —  You  will  observe  that  I  do  not,  at  present,  enter  on 
the  question,  How  do  we  acquire  the  notion  of  power  ?  and  I 


EXPUCATION  OF  TERMS. 


115 


defend  the  following  passage  of  Locke,  only  in  regard  to  the 
meaning  and  comprehension  of  the  term.     «  The  mind,"  says 
Locke,  "  being  every  day  informed,  by  the  senses,  of  the  altera- 
tion of  those  simple  ideas  it  observes  in  things  without,  and 
takin-  notice  how  one  comes  to  an  end,  and  ceases  to  be,  and 
another  begins  to  exist  which  was  not  before ;  reflecting,  also, 
on  what  parses  within  itself,  and  observing  a  constant  change  of 
its  ideas,  sometimes  by  the  impression  of  outward  objects  on  the 
senses,  and  sometimes  by  the  determination  of  its  own  choice ; 
and  concluding  from  what  it  has  so  constantly  observed  to  have 
been,  that  the  like  changes  will,  for  the  future,  be  made  in  the 
same  things,  by  like  agents,  and  by  the  Hke  ways ;  considers,  in 
one  thing,  the  possibility  of  having  any  of  its  simple  ideas 
changed,''and,  in  another,  the  possibiUty  of  making  that  change  ; 
and  s°o  comes  by  that  idea  which  we  call  power.     Thus  we  say, 
fii-e  has  a  power  to  melt  gold,  —  that  is,  to  destroy  the  consis- 
tency of  its  insensible  parts,  and,  consequently,  its  hardness, 
and  make  it  fluid,  and  gold  has  a  power  to  be  melted :  that  the 
sun  has  a   power   to   blanch  wax,  and  wax  a  power  to  be 
blanched  by  the  sun,  whereby  the  yellowness  is  destroyed,  and 
whiteness  made  to  exist  in  its  room.     In  which,  and  the  like 
cases,  the  power,  we  consider,  is  in  reference  to  the  change  of 
perceivable  ideas ;  for  we  cannot  observe  any  alteration  to  be 
made  in,  or  operation  upon,  any  tiling,  but  by  the  observable 
change  of  its  sensible  ideas ;  nor  conceive  any  alteration  to  be 
made,  but  by  conceiving  a  change  of  some  of  its  ideas.     Power, 
thus  considered,  is  twofold  —  namely,  as  able  to  make,  or  able 
to  receive,  any  change :  the  one  may  be  called  active,  and  the 
other  passive  power." 

Active  and  Passive  Power.  —  1  have  here  only  to  call  your 
attention  to  the  distinction  of  power  into  two  kinds,  active  and 
passive  —  the  former  meaning,  id  quod  potest  facere,  that 
which  can  effect  or  can  do,  —  the  latter,  id  quod  potest  feri,  that 
which  can  be  effected  or  can  be  done.  In  both  cases,  the  general 
notion  of  power  is  expressed  by  the  verb  potest  or  can.  Now, 
on  this,  Dr.  Reid  makes  the  following  strictures :  "  Whereas 
Locke  distinguishes  power  into  active  and  passive,  I  conceive  j 


116 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


passive  power  is  no  power  at  all.  He  means  by  it,  the  possi- 
bility of  being  clumged.  To  call  thi.-*,  poiver,  seems  to  be  a 
misapplication  of  the  word.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  met 
with  the  phrase  passive  power  in  any  other  good  author.  Mr. 
Locke  seems  to  have  been  unlucky  in  inventing  it ;  and  it  de- 
serves not  to  be  retained  in  our  language.  Perhaps  he  was 
unwarily  led  into  it,  as  an  opposite  to  active  power.  But  I  con- 
ceive we  call  certain  powers  active,  to  distinguish  them  from 
other  powers  that  are  called  speculative.  As  all  mankind  dis- 
tinguish action  from  speculation,  it  is  very  proper  to  distinguish 
the  powers  by  which  those  different  operations  are  performed 
into  active  and  speculative.  ^Ir.  Locke,  indeed,  acknowledges 
that  active  power  is  more  properly  called  power :  but  I  see  no 
propriety  at  all  in  passive  power ;  it  is  a  powerless  power,  and 
a  contradiction  in  terms." 

These  observations  of  Dr.  Reid  are,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  erro- 
neous from  first  to  last.  The  latter  part,  in  which  he  attempts 
to  find  a  reason  for  Locke  being  unwarily  betrayed  into  making 
this  distinction,  is,  supposing  the  distinction  untenable,  and 
Locke  its  author,  wholly  inadequate  to  account  for  his  hallu- 
cination :  for,  surely,  the  powers  by  which  we  speculate  are,  in 
their  operations,  not  more  passive  than  those  that  have  some- 
times been  styled  active,  but  which  are  properly  denominated 
practical.  But  in  the  censure  itself  on  Locke,  Reid  is  alto- 
gether mistaken.  In  the  first  place,  so  far  was  Locke  from 
being  unlucky  in  inventing  the  distinction,  it  was  invented 
some  two  thousand  years  before.  In  the  second  place,  to  call 
the  possibility  of  being  changed  a  power,  is  no  misapplication  of 
the  word.  In  the  third  place,  so  far  is  the  phrase  joamye  power 
from  not  being  employed  by  any  good  author,  —  there  is  hardly 
a  metaphysician,  previous  to  Locke,  by  whom  it  was  not  famil- 
iarly used.  In  fact,  this  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  dis- 
tiiictions  in  i)liiloso])hy.  It  was  first  formally  enounced  by 
Aristotle,  and  from  him  was  universally  adopted.  Active  and 
passive  power  are  in  Greek  styled  Svvafu^  nonjfiixij,  and  Sirafui 
naOr,Ttxi] ;  in  Latin,  potentia  activa.  and  potentia  pauiva. 

Power,  therefore,  is  a  word  which  we  may  use  both  in  an 


EXPLICATION  OF  TEEMS. 


117 


active,  and  in  a  passive,  signification ;  and  in  psychology,  we 
may  apply  it  both  to  the  active  faculties,  and  to  the  passive 

'^^Fa^Uv  1  This  leads  to  the  meaning  of  the  terms /acuto 
and  capacities.  Faculty  (facvltas)  is  derived  from  the  obsolete 
Latin  facd,  the  more  ancient  form  oi  facUis,  from  which  agam 
faoiUtas  is  formed.  It  is  properly  limited  to  active  power,  and 
therefore,  is  abusively  appUed  to  the  mere  passive  afi'ections  of 

'^'''capacity  (capacitas),  on  the  other  hand,  is  more  properly 
Umited  to  these.     Its  primary  signification,  which  is  literally 
room  for,  as  well  as  its  employment,  favors  this ;  although  it 
cannot  be  denied,  that  there  are  examples  of  its  usage  m  an 
active  sense.     Leibnitz,  as  far  as  I  know,  was  the  fi«t  who 
limited  its  psychological  application  to  the  passivities  of  mmd. 
In  his  famous  Nouvcaiix  Esmis  sur  TEntendement  Humam,  a. 
work  written  in  refutation  of  Locke's  &say  on  the  same  sub- 
iect  he  observes :  "  We  may  say  that  power,  in  general,  is  the 
po-ibility  of  change.     Now  the  change,  or  the  act  of  this  possi- 
bility, being  action  in  one  subject  and  passion  in  another,  there 
will  be  two  powers,  the  one  passive,  the  other  active.    The 
active  may  be  called  faculty,  and  perhaps  the  passive  might  be 
called  capacity,  or  receptivity.    It  is  true  that  the  active  power 
is  sometimes  taken  in  a  higher  sense,  when,  over  and  above  the 
simple  faculty,  there  is  also  a  tendency,  a  nisus ;  and  it  is  thus 
that  I  have  used  it  in  my  dynamical  considerations.     We  might 
give  it  in  this  meaning  the  special  name  oi  force."    I  may 
notice  that  Keid  seems  to  have  attributed  no  other  meamng  to 
the  term  power  than  tliat  of  force. 

Power,  then,  is  active  and  passive  ;  faculty  is  active  power, 
—  capacity  is  passive  power. 

Disposition,  Habit.  — The  two  terms  next  in  order,  are  dis- 
position, in  Greek,  fi,a(>t<Hi,- ;  and  habit,  in  Greek  f?.*-.  I  take 
these  together,  as  they  are  similar,  yet  not  the  same.  Both  are 
tendencies  to  action ;  but  they  differ  in  this,  that  disposition 
properly  denotes  a  natural  tendency,  habit  an  acquired  ten- 
dency.    Aristotle   distinguishes  them  by  another  diff'erence. 


118 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


"Habit  (f^ig)  is  discriminated  from  disposition  (didx^eai^)  in 
this,  that  the  latter  is  easily  movable,  the  former  of  longer 
duration,  and  more  difficult  to  be  moved."  I  may  notice  that 
habit  is  formed  by  the  frequent  repetition  of  the  same  action  or 
passion,  and  that  this  repetition  is  called  consuetude,  or  custom. 
The  latter  terms,  which  properly  signify  the  cause,  are  not  un- 
frequently  abusively  employed  for  habit,  their  effect. 

I  may  likewise  observe  that  the  terms  poioer,  faculty ,  capac- 
ity, are  more  appropriately  applied  to  natural,  than  to  acquired, 
capabilities,  and  are  thus  inapplicable  to  mere  habits.  I  say 
mere  habits,  for  where  habit  is  superinduced  upon  a  natural 
capability,  both  terms  may  be  used.  Thus  we  can  say  both  the 
faculty  of  abstraction,  and  the  habit  of  abstraction,  —  the  ca- 
pacity of  suffering,  and  the  habit  of  suffering;  but  still  the 
meanings  are  not  identical. 

The  last  series  of  cognate  terms  are  act,  operation,  energy. 
They  are  all  mutually  convertible,  as  all  denoting  the  present 
exertion  or  exercise  of  a  power,  a  faculty,  or  a  habit.  I  must 
here  explain  to  you  the  famous  distinction  of  actual  and  poten- 
tial existence  ;  for,  by  this  distinction,  act,  operation,  energy,  are 
contra-discriminated  from  power,  faculty,  capacity,  disposition, 
and  habit.  This  distinction,  when  divested  of  certain  subordi- 
nate subtleties  of  no  great  consequence,  is  manifest  and  simple. 
Potential  existence  means  merely  that  the  thing  may  he  at  some 
time;  actual  existence,  that  it  now  is.  Thus,  the  mathema- 
tician, when  asleep  or  playing  at  cards,  does  not  exercise  his 
skill ;  his  geometncal  knowledge  is  all  latent,  but  he  is  still  a 
mathematician  — potentially. 

Hermogenes,  says  Horace,  was  a  singer,  even  when  silent ; 
how? — a  singer,  not  in  actu,  but  in  posse.  So  Alfenus  was  a 
cobbler,  even  when  not  at  work;  that  is,  he  was  a  cobbler 
potential;  whereas,  when  busy  in  his  booth,  he  was  a  cobbler 
a>ctual. 

In  like  manner,  my  sense  of  sight  potentially  exists,  though 
my  eyeUds  are  closed ;  but  when  I  open  them,  it  exists  actually. 
Now,  power,  faculty,  capacity,  disposition,  habit,  are  all  differ- 
ent expressions  for  potential  or  possible  existence ;  act,  opera- 


EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 


119 


tion,  energy,  for  actual  or  present  existence.  Thus  the  power 
of  imagination  expresses  the  unexerted  capability  of  imagining ; 
the  act  of  imagination  denotes  that  power  elicited  into  imme- 
diate—  into  present  existence.  The  different  synon3nns  for 
potential  existence,  are  existence  tv  dvvdfiei,  in  potentia,  in  posse, 
in  power  ;  for  actual  existence,  existence  Iv  ivsQyeia,  or  tv  tvre- 
Xtxila,  in  actu,  in  esse,  in  act,  in  operation,  in  energy.  The 
term  energy  is  precisely  the  Greek  term  for  act  of  operation ; 
but  it  has  vulgarly  obtained  the  meaning  of  forcible  activity. 

The  word  functio,  in  Latin,  simply  expresses  performance  or 
operation ;  functio  muneris  is  the  exertion  of  an  energy  of 
some  determinate  kind.  But  with  us,  the  word  function  has 
come  to  be  employed  in  the  sense  of  munus  alone,  and  means 
not  the  exercise,  but  the  specific  character,  of  a  power.  Thus 
the  function  of  a  clergyman  does  not  mean  with  us  the  per- 
formance of  his  duties,  but  the  peculiarity  of  those  duties 
themselves.  The  function  of  nutrition  does  not  mean  the 
operation  of  that  animal  power,  but  its  discriminate  character. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


DISTRIBUTipN   OF   MENTAL   PHiENOMENA :- SPECIAL   CONDI- 
TIONS OF   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Consciousness  comprehends  all  the  mental  ph(Enomena,  —  In 
taking  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  mental  phaenomena,  these 
are  all  seen  to  comprise  one  essential  element,  or  to  be  possible 
only  under  one  necessary  condition.     Tliis  element  or  condition 
is   Consciousness,  or   the   knowledge  that  I,  — that  the   Ego 
exists,  in   some   determinate   state.     In  this   knowledge  they 
appear,  or  are  realized  as  phsenomena,  and  with  this  knowledge 
they  likewise  disappear,  or  have  no  longer  a  phaenomenal  exist- 
ence ;  so  that  consciousness  may  be  compared  to  an  internal 
light,  by  means  of  which,  and  which  alone,  what  passes  in  the 
idud  is  rendered  visible.     Consciousness  is  simple,  —  is  not 
..   composed   of   parts,  either  similar  or  dissimilar.      It   always 
resembles  itself,  differing  only  in  the  degrees  of  its  intensity ; 
thus,  there  are  not  various  kinds  of  consciousness,  although 
there  are  various  kinds  of  mental  modes,  or  states,  of  which  we 
are   conscious.     Whatever  division,  therefore,  of   the  mental 
phsenomena  may  be  adopted,  all  its  members  must  be  within 
consciousness  itself,  which  must  be  viewed  as  comprehensive  of 
the  whole  pha^nomena  to  be  divided ;  far  less  should  we  reduce 
it,  as  a  special  pha^nomenon,  to  a  particular  class.     Let  con- 
sciousness, therefore,  remain  one  and  indivisible,  comprehend- 
in^  all  the  modifications,  — all  the  pha^nomena,  of  the  thinking 

subject. 

Three  classes  of  rnental  phtsnomena.  —  But  taking,  again,  a 
survey  of  the  mental  modifications,  or  pha^nomena,  of  which 
we  are  conscious,  —  these  are  seen  to  divide  themselves  into 
THREE  great  classes.     In  the  first  place,  there  are  the  pha3- 

(120) 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 


121 


nomena  of  Knowledge  ;  in  tlie  second  place,  there  are  the  phas- 
nomena  of  Feeling,  or  the  phenomena  of  Pleasure  and  Pain  ; 
and,  in  the  tliird  place,  there  are  the  phoenomena  of  Will  and 
Desire, 

Let  me  illustrate  this  by  an  example.  I  see  a  picture. 
Now,  first  of  all,  —  I  am  conscious  of  perceiving  a  certain 
complement  of  colors  and  figures,  —  I  recognize  what  the 
object  is.  This  is  the  pha3nomenon  of  Cognition  or  Knowl- 
edge. But  this  is  not  the  only  phenomenon  of  which  I  may 
be  liere  conscions.  I  may  experience  certain  affections  in  the 
contemplation  of  this  object.  K  the  picture  be  a  masterpiece, 
the  gratification  will  be  unalloyed ;  but  if  it  be  an  unequal  pro- 
duction, I  shall  be  conscious,  perhaps,  of  enjoyment,  but  of 
enjoyment  alloyed  with  dissatisfiiction.  This  is  the  pha3nome- 
non  of  Feeling,  —  or  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.  But  these  two 
phaenomena  do  not  yet  exhaust  all  of  which  I  may  be  conscious 
on  the  occasion.  I  may  desire  to  see  the  picture  long,  —  to  see 
it  often,  —  to  make  it  my  own,  and,  perhaps,  I  may  will,  resolve, 
or  determine  so  to  do.  This  is  the  complex  pha^nomenon  of 
Will  and  Desire. 

Their  nomenclature.  —  The  English  language,  unfortunately, 
does  not  afford  us  terms  competent  to  express  and  discriminate, 
with  even  tolerable  clearness  and  precision,  these  classes  of 
phenomena.  In  regard  to  the  first,  indeed,  we  have  com- 
paratively little  reason  to  complain;  the  synonymous  terms, 
knowledge  and  cognition,  suffice  to  distinguish  the  phaenomena 
of  this  class  from  those  of  the  other  two.  In  the  second  class, 
the  defect  of  the  language  becomes  more  apparent.  The  word 
feeling  is  the  only  term  under  which  we  can  possibly  collect 
the  phaenomena  of  pleasure  and  pain,  and  yet  this  word  is 
ambiguous.  For  it  is  not  only  employed  to  denote  what  we 
are  conscious  of  as  agreeable  or  disagreeable  in  our  mental 
states,  but  it  is  likewise  used  as  a  synonym  for  the  sense  of 
touch.  It  is,  however,  principally  in  relation  to  the  third  class 
that  the  deficiency  is  manifested.  In  English,  unfortunately, 
we  have  no  term  capable  of  adequately  expressing  what  is 
common  both  to  will  and  desire  ;  that  is,  the  nisus  or  conatus,  — 

U 


/5 


122 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 


123 


the  tendency  towards  the  realization  of  their  end.  By  will  is 
meant  a  free  and  deliberate,  by  desire  a  blind  and  fatal,  ten- 
dency to  act.  Now,  to  express,  I  say,  the  tendency  to  overt 
action,  — the  qiiahty  in  which  desire  and  will  are  equally  con- 
tained,   we  possess  no  English  term  to  which  an  exception  of 

Qiore  or  less  cogency  may  not  be  taken.     Were  we  to  say  the 
^hjenomena  of  tendency,  the  phrase  would  be  vague ;  and  the 
«?ame  is  true  of  the  phaenomena  of  doing.     Again,  the  term 
phienomena  of  appetency  is  objectionable,  because  (to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  unfamiliarity  of  the  expression)  appetency,  though 
perhaps  etymologically  unexceptionable,  has,  both  in  Latin  and 
English,  a  meaning  almost  synonymous  with  desire.     Like  the 
Latin  appeteniia,  the  Greek  OQS^ig  is  equally  ill-balanced ;  for, 
though   used   by   philosophers  to   comprehend   both  will  and 
desiiT,  it  more  familiarly  suggests  the  latter,  and  we  need  not, 
therefore,  be  solicitous,  with  Mr.  Harris  and  Lord  Monboddo, 
to  naturalize   in   English  the  term  orecttc.     Again,  the  phrase 
phienomena  of  activity  would  be  even  worse ;  every  possible 
objection  can  be  made  to  the  term  active  powers,  by  which  the 
philosophers  of  this  country  have  designated  the  oreciic  facul- 
ties of  the  Aristotelians.     For  you  will  observe,  that  all  facul- 
ties are  equally  active  ;  and  it  is  not  the  overt  performance,  but 
the  tendency  towards    it,  for  which  we    are   in  quest  of  an 
expression.    The  German  is  the  only  language  I  am  acquainted 
with  which  is  able  to  supply  the  term  of  which  philosophy  is  in 
want.     The  expression  Bestrehungs  Vermdgen,  which  is  most 
nearly,  though  awkwardly  and  inadequately,  translated  by  striv- 
ing  faculties;—  faculties  of  effort  or  endeavor,  —  is  now  gen- 
erally employed,  in  the  philosophy  of  Germany,  as  the  genus 
comprehending  desire  and  will.     Perhaps  the  phrase,  phenom- 
ena of  exertion,  is,  upon  the  whole,  the  best  expression  to  denote 
the  manifestations,  and  exertive  fiiculties,  the  best  expression  to 
denote   the   faculties,   of  will   and   desire.     Exero,   in    Latin, 
means  literally  to  put  forth  ;  —  and,  with  us,  exertion  and  ex- 
ertive are   the    only   endurable   words  that  I  can  find  which 
approximate,  though  distantly,  to  the  strength  and  precision  of 
the  German  expression.     I  shall,  however,  occasionally  employ 


likewise  the  term  appetency,  in  the  rigorous  signification  I  have 
mentioned,  —  as  a  genus  comprehending  under  it  both  desires 

and  volitions.* 

This  division  of  mind  into  the  three  great  classes  of  the  Cog- 
nitive faculties,  —  the  FeeUngs,  or  capacities  of  Pleasure  and 
Pain,—  and  the  Exeiiive  or  Conative  Powers,  — I  do  not  pro- 
pose as  original.  It  was  first  promulgated  by  Kant ;  and  the 
felicity  of  the  distribution  was  so  apparent,  that  it  has  now 
been  long  all  but  universally  adopted  in  Germany  by  the  phi- 
losophers"  of  every  school.  To  English  psychologists  it  is 
apparently  wholly  unknown.  They  still  adhere  to  the  old 
scholastic  division  into  powers  of  the  Understanding  and  pow- 
ers of  the  Will ;  or,  as  it  is  otherwise  expressed,  into  Intel- 
lectual and  Active  powers. 

Objection  to  the  classification  obviated,  —  An  objection  to  the 
arrangement  may,  perhaps,  be  taken  on  the  ground  that  the 
*  three  dasses  are  not  coordinate.     It  is  evident  that  every  men- 
tal phienomenon  is  either  an  act  of  knowledge,  or  only  possible 
through  an  act  of  knowledge,  for    consciousness   is   a  knowl- 
edge, —  a  phgenomenon  of  cognition ;   and,   on    this    principle, 
many  philosophers  have  been  led  to  regard  the  knowing,  or 
representative  faculty,  as  they  called  it,  —  the  facuhy  of  cogni- 
tion, as  the  fundamental  power  of  mind,  from  which  all  others 
are  derivative.     To  this  the  answer  is  easy.     These  philoso- 
phers did   not  observe    that,  although  pleasure    and  pain, — 
although  desire  and  volition,  are  only  as  they  are  known  to  be ; 
yet,  in  these  modifications,  a  quality,  a  phaenomenon  of  mind, 
absolutely  new,  has  been  superadded,  which  was  never  involved 
in,  and  could,  therefore,  never  have  been  evolved  out  of,  the 
mere  faculty  of  knowledge.     The  faculty  of  knowledge  is  cer- 
tainly the  first  in  order,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  conditio  sine  qua 
non  of  the  others ;  and  we  are  able  to  conceive  a  being  pos- 
sessed of  the  power  of  recognizing  existence,  and  yet  wholly 

*  The  term  Conative  (from  Conari)  is  employed  by  Cudworth  in  his 
Treatise  on  Free  Will.  The  terms  Conation  and  Conative  are  those  finally 
adopted  by  the  Author,  as  tlie  most  appropriate  expressions  for  the  class  of 
phenomena  in  question.  —  English  Ed. 


124 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


125 


f 


void  of  all  feeling  of  pain  and  pleasure,  and  of  all  powers  of 
desire  and  volition.  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  wholly  unable 
to  conceive  a  being  possessed  of  feeling  and  desire,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  without  a  knowledge  of  any  object  upon  which  his 
affections  may  be  employed,  and  without  a  consciousness  of 
these  affections  themselves. 

We  can  further  conceive  a  being  possessed  of  knowledge  and 
feeling  alone  —  a  being  endowed  with  a  power  of  recognizing 
objects,  of  enjoying  the  exercise,  and  of  grieving  at  the 
restraint,  of  his  activity,  —  and  yet  devoid  of  that  faculty  of 
voluntary  agency  —  of  that  conation,  which  is  possessed  by 
man.  To  such  a  being  would  belong  feelings  of  pain  and 
pleasure,  but  neither  desire  nor  will  properly  so  called.  On 
the  other  hand,  however,  we  cannot  possibly  conceive  the  exist- 
ence of  a  voluntary  activity  independently  of  all  feeling ;  for 
voluntary  conation  is  a  faculty  which  can  only  be  determined 
to  energy  through  a  pain  or  pleasure,  —  through  an  estimate  of 
the  relative  worth  of  objects. 

In  distinguishuig  the  cognitions,  feelings,  and  conations,  it  is 
not,  therefore,  to  be  supposed  that  these  phenomena  are  possi- 
ble independently  of  each  other.  In  our  philosophical  sys- 
tems, they  may  stand  separated  from  each  other  in  books  and 
chapters ;  —  in  nature,  they  are  ever  interwoven.  In  every, 
the  simplest,  modification  of  mind,  knowledge,  feeling,  and 
desire  or  will  go  to  constitute  the  mental  state ;  and  it  is  only 
by  a  scientific  abstraction  that  we  are  able  to  analyze  the  state 
into  elements,  which  are  never  really  existent  but  in  mutual 
combination.  These  elements  are  found,  indeed,  in  very  vari- 
ous proportions  in  different  states,  —  sometimes  one  prepon- 
derates, sometimes  another ;  but  there  is  no  state  in  which  they 
are  not  all  coexistent. 

Let  the  mental  phaenomena,  therefore,  be  distributed  under 
the  three  heads  of  phienomena  of  Cognition,  or  the  faculties  of 
Knowledge  ;  phainomena  of  Feeling,  or  the  capacities  of  Pleas- 
ure and  Pain ;  and  pha^nomena  of  Desiring  or  "Willing,  of  the 
powers  of  Conation.  The  order  of  these  is  determined  by  their 
relative  consecution.     Feeling  and  appetency  suppose  knowl- 


edge. The  cognitive  faculties,  therefore,  stand  first.  But  as 
will,  and  desire,  and  aversion  suppose  a  knowledge  of  the 
pleasurable  and  painful,  the  feelings  will  stand  second  as  inter- 
mediate between  the  other  two. 

Consciousness  cannot  he  defined,  —  Such  is  the  highest  or 
most  general  classification  of  the  mental  phajnomena,  or  of  the 
pha^nomena  of  which  we  are  conscious.  But  as  these  primary 
classes  are,  as  we  have  shown,  all  included  under  one  universal 
phaenomenon,  —  the  phsenomenon  of  Consciousness,  —  it  follows 
that  Consciousness  must  form  the  first  object  of  our  considera- 
tion. 

Nothing  has  contributed  more  to  spread  obscurity  over  a  very 
transparent  matter,  than  the  attempts  of  philosophers  to  define 
consciousness.  Consciousness  cannot  be  defined ;  we  may  be 
ourselves  fully  aware  what  consciousness  is,  but  we  cannot, 
without  confusion,  convey  to  others  a  definition  of  what  we 
ourselves  clearly  apprehend.  The  reason  is  plain.  Conscious- 
ness lies  at  the  root  of  all  knowledge.  Consciousness  is  itself 
the  one  highest  source  of  all  comprehensibility  and  illustration ; 
—  how,  then,  can  we  find  aught  else  by  which  consciousness 
may  be  illustrated  or  comprehended  ?  To  accomphsh  this,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  have  a  second  consciousness,  through 
which  we  might  be  conscious  of  the  mode  in  which  the  first 
consciousness  was  possible.  Many  pliilosophers,  —  and  among 
others  Dr.  Brown,  —  have  defined  consciousness  a  feeling. 
But  how  do  they  define  a  feeling?  They  define,  and  must 
define  it,  as  sometliing  of  which  we  are  conscious ;  for  a  feelinf^ 
of  which  we  are  not  conscious,  is  no  feeling  at  all.  Here, 
therefore,  they  are  guilty  of  a  logical  see-saw  or  circle.  They 
define  consciousness  by  feeling,  and  feeling  by  consciousness,  — 
that  is,  they  explain  the  same  by  the  same,  and  thus  leave  us 
in  the  end  no  wiser  than  we  were  in  the  beginning.  Other 
philosophers  say  that  consciousness  is  a  knowledge,  —  and  others 
again,  that  it  is  a  belief  or  conviction  of  a  knowledge.  Here, 
again,  we  have  the  same  violation  of  logical  law.  Is  there  any 
knowledge  of  which  we  are  not  conscious  ?     Is  there  any  belief 

of  which  we  are  not  conscious  ?     There  is  not,  —  there  cannot 

11* 


126 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


127 


be;  therefore,  consciousness  is  not  contained  under  either 
knowledge  or  belief,  but  on  the  contrar>%  knowledge  and  be- 
lief are  both  contained  under  consciousness.  In  short,  the 
notion  of  consciousness  is  so  elementar)',  that  it  cannot  possibly 
be  resolved  into  others  more  simple.  It  cannot,  therefore,  be 
brought  under  any  genus,  —  any  more  general  conception; 
and,  consequently,  it  cannot  be  defined. 

But  though  consciousness  cannot  be  logically  defined,  it  may, 
however,  be  philosophically  analyzed.  This  analysis  is  effected 
by  observing  and  holding  fast  the  pha^nomena  or  facts  of  con- 
sciousness, comparing  these,  and,  from  this  comparison,  evolving 
the  universal  conditions  under  which  alone  an  act  of  conscious- 
ness is  possible. 

What  the  word  consciousness  denotes,  and  tchat  it  involves.  — 
But  before  proceeding  to  show  in  detail  what  the  act  of  con- 
sciousness comprises,  it  may  be  proper,  in  the  first  place,  to 
recall  in  general  what  kind  of  act  the  word  is  employed  to 
denote.  I  know,  I  feel,  I  desire,  etc.  Wliat  is  it  that  is  neces- 
sarily involved  in  all  these  ?  It  requires  only  to  be  stated  to  be 
admitted,  that  when  I  know,  I  must  know  that  I  know,  —  when 
I  feel,  I  must  knoic  that  I  feel,  —  when  I  desire,  I  must  Icnow 
that  I  desire.  The  knowledge,  the  feeling,  the  desire,  are  pos- 
sible only  under  the  condition  of  being  known,  and  being  known 
by  me.     For  if  I  did  not  know  that  I  knew,  I  would  not  know, 

if  I  did  not  know  that  I  felt,  I  would  not  feel,  —  if  I  did 

not  know  that  I  desired,  I  would  not  desire.  Now,  this  knowl- 
edge, which  I,  the  subject,  have  of  these  modifications  of  my 
being,  and  through  which  knowledge  alone  these  modifications 
are  possible,  is  what  we  call  consciousness.  The  expressions, 
I  know  that  1  knoic,  —  /  know  that  I  feel  —  /  know  that  I  de- 
sire, —  are  thus  translated  by,  lam  conscious  that  I  know,  —  I 
am  conscious  that  I  feel,  —  lam  conscious  that  I  desire.  Con- 
sciousness is  thus,  on  the  one  hand,  the  recognition  by  the  mind 
or  ego  of  its  acts  and  affections ;  —  in  other  w^ords,  the  self- 
affirmation,  that  certain  modifications  are  known  by  me,  and 
that  these  modifications  are  mine.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
consciousness  is  not  to  be  viewed  as  any  thing  different  from 


these  modifications  themselves,  but  is,  in  fact,  the  general  con- 
dition of  their  existence,  or  of  their  existence  within  the  sphere 
of  intelligence.  Though  the  simplest  act  of  mind,  conscious- 
ness thus  expresses  a  relation  subsisting  between  two  terms. 
Tliese  terms  are,  on  the  one  hand,  an  I  or  Self,  as  the  subject 
of  a  certain  modification,  —  and,  on  the  other,  some  modifica^ 
tion,  state,  quality,  affection,  or  operation  belonging  to  the  sub- 
ject. Consciousness,  thus,  in  its  simpHcity,  necessarily  involves 
three  things,  —  1°,  A  recognizing  or  knowing  subject ;  2°,  A 
recognized  or  known  modification ;  and,  3°,  A  recognition  or 
knowledge  by  the  subject  of  the  modification. 

Consciousness  and  knowledge  involve  each  other.  —  From  this 
it  is  apparent,  that  consciousness  and  knowledge  each  involve 
the  other.  An  act  of  knowledge  may  be  expressed  by  the 
formula,  I  know  ;  an  act  of  consciousness  by  the  formula,  1  know 
that  I  knoto :  but  as  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  know  without  at 
the  same  time  knowing  that  we  know,  so  it  is  impossible  to  know 
that  w^e  know  without  our  actually  knowing.  The  one  merely 
explicitly  expresses  what  the  other  implicitly  contains.  Con- 
sciousness and  knowledge  are  thus  not  opposed  as  really  differ- 
ent. AVhy,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  employ  two  terms  to  exj^ress 
notions,  which,  as  they  severally  infer  each  other,  are  really 
identical  ?  To  this  the  answer  is  easy.  Realities  may  be  in 
themselves  inseparable,  while,  as  objects  of  our  knowledge,  it 
may  be  necessary  to  consider  them  apart.  Notions,  likewise, 
may  severally  imply  each  other,  and  be  inseparable,  even  in 
thought ;  yet,  for  the  purposes  of  science,  it  may  be  requisite  to 
distinguish  them  by  different  tei-ms,  and  to  consider  them  in 
their  relations  or  correlations  to  each  otlier.  Take  a  geometri- 
cal example,  —  a  triangle.  This  is  a  whole  composed  of  cer- 
tain parts.  Here  the  whole  cannot  be  conceived  as  separate 
from  its  parts,  and  the  parts  cannot  be  conceived  as  separate 
from  their  w^hole.  Yet  it  is  scientifically  necessary  to  have 
different  names  for  each,  and  it  is  necessary  now  to  consider 
the  wliole  in  relation  to  the  parts,  and  now  the  parts  in  correla- 
tion to  the  whole.  Again,  the  constituent  parts  of  a  triangle 
are  sides  and  angles.     Here  the  sides  suppose  the  angles, — 


I 


128 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


the  angles  suppose  the  sides  ;  —  and,  in  fact,  the  sides  and  angles 
are,  in  themselves,  in  reality,  one  and  indivisible.  But  they 
are  not  the  same  to  us,  —  to  our  knowledge.  For  though  we 
cannot  abstract  in  thought  the  sides  from  the  angle,  the  angle 
from  the  sides,  we  may  make  one  or  other  the  principal  object 
of  attention.  We  may  either  consider  the  angles  in  relation  to 
each  other,  and  to  the  sides ;  or  the  sides  in  relation  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  angles.  And  to  express  all  this,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  distinguish,  in  thought  and  expression,  what,  in  nature, 
is  one  and  indivisible. 

As  it  is  in  geometry,  so  it  is  in  the  philosoi)hy  of  mind.  We 
require  different  words,  not  only  to  express  objects  and  relations 
different  in  themselves,  but  to  express  the  same  objects  and  re- 
lations under  the  different  points  of  view  in  which  they  are 
placed  by  the  mind,  when  scientifically  considering  them.  Thus, 
in  the  present  instance,  consciousness  and  knowledge  are  not 
distinguished  by  different  words  as  different  things,  but  only  as 
the  same  thing  considered  in  different  aspects.  The  verbal  dis- 
tinction is  taken  for  the  sake  of  brevity  and  precision,  and  its 
convenience  wai-rants  its  establishment.  Knowledge  is  a  rela- 
tion, and  every  relation  supposes  two  terms.  Thus,  in  the  rela- 
tion in  question,  there  is,  on  the  one  hand,  a  subject  of  hiowl- 
edge,  —  that  is,  the  knowing  mind,  —  and  on  the  other,  there  is 
an  object  of  knowledge,  —  that  is,  the  thing  known;  and  the 
knowledge  itself  is  the  relation  between  these  two  terms.  Now, 
though  each  term  of  a  relation  necessarily  supposes  the  other, 
nevertheless  one  of  these  terms  may  be  to  us  the  more  inter- 
esting, and  we  may  consider  that  term  as  the  principal,  and  view 
the  other  only  as  subordinate  and  correlative.  Now,  this  is  the 
case  in  the  present  instance.  In  an  act  of  knowledge,  my  atten- 
tion may  be  principally  attracted  either  to  the  object  known, 
or  to  myself  as  the  subject  knowing ;  and,  in  the  latter  case, 
although  no  new  element  be  added  to  the  act,  the  condition 
involved  in  it,  —  /  know  that  I  know,  —  becomes  the  primary 
and  prominent  matter  of  consideration.  And  when,  as  in 
the  philosophy  of  mind,  the  act  of  knowledge  comes  to  be 
specially   considered   in    relation   to   the   knowing   subject,   it 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


129 


is  at  last,  in  the  progress  of  the  science,  found  convenient,  if  not 
absolutely  necessary,  to  possess  a  scientific  word  in  which 
this  point  of  view  should  be  permanently  and  distinctively  em- 
bodied. 

History  of  the  term  consciousness.  —  But,  as  the  want  of  a 
teclmical  and  appropriate  expression  could  be  experienced  only 
after  psychological  abstraction  had  acquired  a  certain  stability 
and  importance,  it  is  evident  that  the  appropriation  of  such  an 
expression  could  not,  in  any  language,  be  of  very  early  date. 
And  this  is  shown  by  the  history  of  the  synonymous  terms  for 
consciousness  in  the   different   languages,  — a   history  which, 
though  curious,  you  will  find  noticed  in  no  publication  what- 
ever.    The  employment  of  th.e  word  conscientia,  of  which  our 
term  consciousness  is  a  translation,  is,  in  its  psychological  signi- 
fication, not   older  than   the   philosophy  of   Descartes.     Pre- 
viously to  him,  this  word  was  used  almost  exclusively  in  the 
ethical  sense,  expressed  by  our  term  conscience;  and  in  the 
striking  and  apparently  appropriate  dictum  of  St.  Augustin,  — 
"certissima    scientia   et   clamante    conscientia,"  —  which   you 
may  find  so  frequently  paraded  by  the  Continental  philosophers, 
when  illustrating  the  certainty  of  consciousness,  in  that  quo- 
tation, the  term  is,  by  its  author,  apphed  only  in  its  moral 
or  religious  signification.     Besides  the  moral  application,  the 
words  conscire  and  conscientia  were  frequently  employed  to 
denote  participation  in  a  common  knowledge.     Thus  the  mem- 
bers of  a  conspiracy  were  said  conscire  ;  and  conscius  is  even 
used  for  conspirator ;  and,  metaphorically,  this  community  of 
knowledge  is  attributed  to  inanimate  objects,  —  as  waiUng  to 
the  rocks,  a  lover  says  of  himself,  — 

"  Et  conscia  saxa  fatigo." 

I  would  not,  however,  be  supposed  to  deny  that  these  words 
were  sometimes  used,  in  ancient  Latinity,  in  the  modern  sense 
of  consciousness,  or  being  conscious. 

Until  Descartes,  therefore,  the  Latin  terms  conscire  and  con- 
scientia were  very  rarely  usurped  in  their  present  psychological 
meaning, — a  meaning  which,  it  is  needless  to  add,  was  not 


y 


130 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


131 


expressed  by  any  term  in  the  vulgar  languages ;  for,  besides 
Tertullian,  I  am  aware  of  only  one  or  two  obscure  instances  in 
which,  as  translations  of  the  Greek  terms  avvaioO^avoftai  and 
Gvvaiax^r^aig,  of  which  we  are  about  to  speak,  the  terms  conscio 
and  conscientia  were,  as  the  nearest  equivalents,  contorted 
from  their  established  signification  to  the  sense  in  which  they 
were  afterwards  employed  by  Descartes.  Thus,  in  the  phi- 
losophy of  the  West,  we  may  safely  affirm  that,  prior  to  Des- 
cartes, there  was  no  psychological  term  in  recognized  use  for 
what,  since  liis  time,  is  expressed  in  philosophical  Latinity  by 
conscientia^  in  French  by  conscience,  in  English  by  conscious- 
ness, in  Italian  by  conscienza,  and  in  German  by  Bewusstseyn. 
It  will  be  observed  that  in  Latin,  French,  and  Italian  (and  I 
might  add  the  Spanish  and  other  Romanic  languages),  the 
terms  are  analogous,  the  moral  and  psychological  meaning 
being  denoted  by  the  same  word. 

No  term  for  consciousness  in  Greek  tintil  the  decline  of  phi- 
losophy. —  In  Greek,  there  was  no  term  for  consciousness  until 
the  decline  of  philosophy,  and  in  the  later  ages  of  the  lan- 
guage. Plato  and  Aristotle,  to  say  nothing  of  other  philoso- 
phers, had  no  special  term  to  express  the  knowledge  which  the 
mind  affords  of  the  operations  of  its  faculties,  though  this,  of 
course,  was  necessarily  a  frequent  matter  of  their  considera- 
tion. Intellect  was  supposed  by  them  to  be  cognizant  of  its 
own  operations ;  it  was  only  doubted  whether  by  a  direct  or  by 
a  reflex  act.  In  regard  to  sense,  the  matter  was  more  per- 
plexed ;  and,  on  this  point,  both  j)hilosophers  seem  to  vacillate 
in  their  opinions.  In  his  Thecetetus,  Plato  accords  to  sense  the 
power  of  perceiving  that  it  perceives ;  whereas,  in  his  Chor- 
mides,  this  power  he  denies  to  sense,  and  attributes  to  intelli- 
gence (vov^).  In  like  manner,  an  apparently  different  doctrine 
may  be  found  in  different  works  of  Aristotle.  But  what  con- 
cerns us  at  present,  in  all  these  discussions  by  the  two  philoso- 
phers, there  is  no  single  term  employed  to  denote  that  special 
aspect  of  the  phoenomenou  of  knowledge,  which  is  thus  by 
them  made  a  matter  of  consideration.  It  is  only  under  the 
later  Platonists  and  Ai-istotelians,  that  peculiar  terms,  tanta- 


mount to  our  consciousness,  were  adopted  into  the  langua^  of 

philosophy. 

The  special  conditions  of  consciousness.  —  But  to  return  from 
our  historical  digression.     We  may  lay  it  down  as  the  most 
general  characteristic  of  consciousness,  that  it  is  the  recognition  by 
the  thinking  subject  of  its  own  acts  or  affections.     So  far  there 
is  no  difference  and  no  dispute.     In  this  all  philosophers  are 
Sicrreed.     The  more  arduous  task  remains  of  determining  the 
special  conditions  of  consciousness.     Of  these,  likemse,  some 
are  almost  too  palpable  to  admit  of  controversy.     Before  pro- 
ceeding to  those  in  regard  to  which  there  is  any  doubt  or  diffi- 
culty, it  will  be  proper,  in  the  first  place,  to  state  and  dispose 
of  such  determinations  as  are  too  palpable  to  be  called  in  ques- 
tion.    Of  these  admitted  limitations,  tlic  first  is,  that  conscious- 
ness is  an  actual,  and  not  a  potential,  knowledge.     Thus,  a  man 
is  said  to  know,  —  i.  e.  is  able  to  know,  that  7  +  9  are  =  16, 
though  that  equation  be  not,  at  the  moment,  the  object  of  his 
thought ;  but  we  cannot  say  that  he  is  conscious  of  this  truth 
unless  while  actually  present  to  his  mind. 

The  second  limitation  is,  that  consciousness  is  an  immediate, 
not  a  mediate,  knowledge.     We  are  said,  for  example,  to  know  a 
past  occurrence  when  we  represent  it  to  the  mind  in  an  act  of 
memory.     We  know  the  mental  representation,  and  this  we  do 
immediately  and  in  itself,  and  are  also  said  to  know  the  past 
occurrence,  as  mediately  knowing  it  through  the  mental  modifi- 
cation which  represents  it.     Now,  we   are   conscious  of   the 
representation  as  immediately  known,  but  we  cannot  be  said  to 
be  conscious  of  the  thing  represented,  which,  if  known,  is  only 
known  through  its  representation.     If,  therefore,  mediate  knowl- 
edge be  in  propriety  a  knowledge,  consciousness  is  not  coexten- 
sive with  knowledge.     This  is,  however,  a  problem  we  are 
hereafter   specially   to   consider.      I   may   here   also   observe, 
ik't,   while   all   philosophers    agree   in   making   consciousness 
an  immediate  knowledge,  some,  as  Reid  and  Stewart,  do  not 
admit  that  all  immediate  knowledge  is  consciousness.      They 
hold   that   we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  external  ob- 
jects, but  they  hold  that  these  objects  are  beyond  the  sphere 


V 


132 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


133 


of  consciousness.     This  is  an  opinion  we  are,  likewise,  soon  to 
canvass. 

The  third  condition  of  consciousness,  which  may  be  held  as 
universally  admitted,  is,  that  it  supposes  a  contrast,  —  a  discrim- 
ination ;  for  we  can  be  conscious  only  inasmuch  as  we  are 
conscious  of  something ;  and  we  are  conscious  of  something 
only  inasmuch  as  we  are  conscious  of  what  that  something  is,  — 
that  is,  distinguish  it  from  what  it  is  not.  This  discrimination 
is  of  different  kinds  and  degrees. 

This  discrimination  of  various  kinds  and  degrees.  —  In  the 
Jirst  place,  there  is  the  contrast  between  the  two  grand  opposites, 
self  and  not-self  —  ego  and  non-ego,  —  mind  and  matter  (the 
contrast  of  subject  and  object  is  more  general).  We  are  con- 
scious of  self  only  in  and  by  its  contradistinction  from  not-self; 
and  are  conscious  of  not-self  only  in  and  by  its  contradistinc- 
tion from  self.  In  the  second  place,  there  is  the  discrimination 
of  the  states  or  modifications  of  the  internal  subject  or  self  from 
each  other.  We  are  conscious  of  one  mental  state  only  as  we 
contradistinguish  it  from  another;  where  two,  three,  or  more 
such  states  are  confounded,  we  are  conscious  of  them  as  one ; 
and  were  we  to  note  no  difference  in  our  mental  modifications, 
we  might  be  said  to  be  absolutely  unconscious.  Hobbes  has 
truly  said,  "'  Idem  semper  sentire,  et  non  sentire,  ad  idem  reci- 
dunt ; "  [To  have  always  the  same  sensation,  and  not  to  have 
any  sensation  at  all,  amount  to  the  same  thmg.]  In  the  third 
place,  there*  is  the  distinction  between  the  parts  and  qualities  of 
the  outer  world.  We  are  conscious  of  an  external  object  only 
as  we  are  conscious  of  it  as  distinct  from  others  ;  —  where  sev- 
eral distinguishable  objects  are  confounded,  we  are  conscious  of 
them  as  one ;  where  no  object  is  discriminated,  we  are  not  con- 
scious of  any.  Before  leaving  this  condition,  I  may  parenthet- 
ically state,  that,  while  all  philosophers  admit  that  consciousness 
involves  a  discrimination,  many  do  not  allow  it  any  cognizance 
of  aught  beyond  the  sphere  of  self.  The  great  majority  of 
philosophers  do  this  because  they  absolutely  deny  the  possibility 
of  an  immediate  knowledge  of  external  things,  and,  conse- 
quently, hold  that  consciousness  in  distinguishing  the  non-ego 


r- 


from  the  ego,  only  distinguishes  self  from  self;  ibr  they  main- 
tain, that  what  we  are  conscious  of  as  something  different  from 
the  perceiving  mind  is  only,  in  reality,  a  modification  of  that 
mind,  which  we  are  condemned  to  mistake  for  the  material 
reality.  Some  philosophers,  however,  (as  Reid  and  Stewart,) 
who  hold,  with  mankind  at  large,  that  we  do  possess  an  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  something  different  from  the  knowing  self, 
still  limit  consciousness  to  a  cognizance  of  self;  and,  conse- 
quently, not  only  deprive  it  of  the  power  of  distinguishing 
external  objects  from  each  other,  but  even  of  the  power  of 
discriminating  the  ego  and  non-ego.  These  opinions  we  are 
afterwards  to  consider.  With  this  qualification,  all  philosophers 
may  be  viewed  as  admitting  that  discrimination  is  an  essential 
condition  of  consciousness. 

T\\Q  fourth  condition  of  consciousness,  wliich  may  be  assumed 
as  very  generally  acknowledged,  is,  that  it  involves  judgment. 
A  judgment  is  the  mental  act  by  which  one  thing  is  affirmed  or 
denied  of  another.     This  fourth  condition  is,  in  truth,  only  a 
necessary  consequence  of  the  third ;  —  for  it  is  impossible  to 
discriminate  without  judging,  —  discrimination,  or  contradistinc- 
tion, being  in  fact  only  the  denying  one  tiling  of  another.     It 
may  to  some  seem  strange  that  consciousness,  the  simple  and 
primaiy  act   of  intelligence,  should  be  a  judgment,  —  which 
philosophers,  in  general,  have  viewed  as  a  compound  and  deriv- 
ative operation.      This  is,  however,  altogether  a  mistake.     A 
judgment  is,  as  I  shall  hereafter  show  you,  a  simple  act  of 
mind,  for  every  act  of  mind  implies  a  judgment.     Do  we  per- 
ceive or  imagine,  without  affirming,  in  the  act,  the  external  or 
internal  existence   of  the   object?      Now   these   fundamental 
affirmations  are  the  affirmations,  —  in  other  words,  the  judg- 
ments, of  consciousness. 

The  fifth  undeniable  condition  of  consciousness  is  memory. 
This  condition,  also,  is  a  corollary  of  the  third.  For  without 
memory,  our  mental  states  could  not  be  held  fast,  compared, 
distinguished  from  each  other,  and  referred  to  self.  Without 
memory,  each  indivisible,  each  infinitesimal,  moment  in  the 
mental  succession  would  stand  isolated  from  every  other,  ^— 

12 


134 


CONDITIONS  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS 


would  constitute,  in  fact,  a  separate  existence.  The  notion  of 
the  ego  or  self  arises  from  the  recognized  permanence  and 
identity  of  the  thinking  subject,  in  contrast  to  the  recognized 
succession  and  variety  of  its  modifications.  But  this  recogni- 
tion is  possible  only  through  memory.  The  notion  of  self  is, 
therefore,  the  result  of  memory.  But  the  notion  of  self  is  in- 
volved in  consciousness ;  so,  consequently,  is  memory. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


CONSCIOUSNESS   NOT  A    SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


So  far  as  we  have  proceeded,  our  determination  of  the  con- 
tents of  consciousness  may  be  viewed  as  that  universally 
admitted.  Let  us,  therefore,  sum  up  the  points  we  have  estab- 
lished. We  have  shown,  in  general,  that  consciousness  is  the 
self-recognition  that  we  know,  or  feel,  or  desire,  etc.  We  have 
shown,  in  particular,  1°,  That  consciousness  is  an  actual  or 
living,  and  not  a  potential  or  dormant,  knowledge  ;  —  2°,  That 
it  is  an  immediate,  and  not  a  mediate,  knowledge ;  —  3°,  That  it 
supposes  a  discrimination ;  —  4°,  That  it  involves  a  judgment ;  — 
and,  5°,  That  it  is  possible  only  through  memory. 

We  are  now  about  to  enter  on  a  more  disputed  territory ; 
and  the  first  thesis  I  shall  attempt  to  establish,  involves  several 
subordinate  questions. 

Our  consciousness  coextensive  with  our  Knowledge.  —  I  state, 
then,  as  the  first  contested  position  which  I  am  to  maintain, 
that  our  consciousness  is  coextensive  with  our  knowledge.  But 
this  assertion,  that  we  have  no  knowledge  of  which  we  are  not 
conscious,  is  tantamount  to  the  other,  that  consciousness  is  coex' 
tensive  with  our  cognitive  faculties,  —  and  this,  again,  is  con- 
vertible with  the  assertion,  that  consciousness  is  not  a  special 
faculty,  but  that  our  special  faculties  of  knowledge  are  only 
modifications  of  consciousness.  The  question,  therefore,  may 
be  thus  stated,  —  Is  consciousness  the  genus  under  which  our 
several  faculties  of  knowledge  are  contained  as  species,  —  or,  is 
consciousness  itself  a  special  faculty  coordinate  with,  and  not 
comprehending,  these  ? 

By  Hutcheson,  Reid,  and  Stewart,  —  to  say  nothing  of  infe- 
rior names,  —  consciousness   has   been  considered  as  nothing 

(135^ 


136 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


137 


higher  than  a  special  faculty.  As  I  regard  this  opinion  to  be 
erroneous,  and  as  the  error  is  one  affecting  the  very  cardinal 
point  of  philosophy,  —  as  it  stands  opposed  to  the  peculiar  and 
most  important  principles  of  the  philosoi)hy  of  Reid  and  Stew- 
art themselves,  and  has  even  contributed  to  throw  around  their 
doctrine  of  perception  an  obscurity  that  has  caused  Dr.  Brown 
absolutely  to  mistake  it  for  its  converse,  and  as  I  have  never 
met  with  any  competent  refutation  of  the  grounds  on  which  it 
rests,  —  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you  that,  notwithstanding  the 
high  authority  of  its  supporters,  this  oi)inion  is  altogether  un- 
tenable. 

Reid  and  Stewart  on  consciousness.  —  As  I  previously  stated, 
neither  Dr.  Reid  nor  Mr.  Stewart  has  given  us  any  regular 
account  of  consciousness  ;  their  doctrine  on  this  subject  is  to  bft 
found  scattered  in  difterents  parts  of  their  works.  The  two  fol- 
lowing brief  passages  of  Reid  contain  the  principal  positions  of 
that  doctrine.  The  first  is :  ''  Consciousness  is  a  word  used 
by  philosophers  to  signify  that  immediate  knowledge  which  we 
have  of  our  present  thoughts  and  purposes,  and,  in  general,  of 
all  the  present  operations  of  our  minds.  Whence  we  may  ob- 
serve, that  consciousness  is  only  of  things  present.  To  apply 
consciousness  to  things  past,  which  sometimes  is  done  in  i)opu- 
lar  discourse,  is  to  confound  consciousness  with  memory ;  and 
all  such  confusion  of  words  ought  to  be  avoided  in  philosophical 
discourse.  It  is  likewise  to  be  obsei*ved,  that  consciousness  is 
only  of  things  in  the  mind,  and  not  of  external  things.  It  is 
improper  to  say,  I  am  conscious  of  the  table  which  is  before 
me.  1  perceive  it,  I  see  it ;  but  do  not  say  I  am  conscious  of 
it.  As  that  consciousness,  by  which  we  have  a  knowledge  of 
the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  is  a  different  power  from  that 
by  which  we  perceive  external  objects,  and  as  these  different 
powers  have  different  names  in  our  language,  and,  I  believe,  in 
all  languages,  a  phtlosopher  ought  carefully  to  preserve  this 
distinction,  and  never  to  confound  things  so  different  in  their 
nature."  The  second  is  :  "  Consciousness  is  an  operation  of  the 
understanding  of  its  own  kind,  and  cannot  be  logically  defined. 
The  objects  of   it   are  our  present  pains,  our  pleasures,  our 


hopes,  our  fears,  our  desires,  our  doubts,  our  thoughts  of  every 
kind ;  in  a  word,  all  the  passions  and  all  the  actions  and  opera- 
tions of  our  own  minds,  while  they  are  present.  We  may 
remember  them  when  they  are  past ;  but  we  are  conscious  of 
them  only  while  they  are  present."  Besides  what  is  thus  said 
in  general  of  consciousness,  in  his  treatment  of  the  different 
special  faculties,  Reid  contrasts  consciousness  with  each.  Thus, 
in  his  essays  on  Perception,  on  Conception  or  Imagination,  and 
on  Memory,  he  specially  contradistinguishes  consciousness  from 
each  of  these  operations ;  and  it  is  also  incidentally  by  Reid, 
but  more  articulately  by  Stewart,  discriminated  from  Attention 
and  Reflection. 

According  to  the  doctrine  of  these  philosophers,  conscious- 
ness is  thus  a  special  faculty,  coordinate  with  the  other  intel- 
lectual powers,  having  like  them  a  particular  operation  and  a 
peculiar  object.  And  what  is  the  peculiar  object  which  is  pro- 
posed to  consciousness  ?  The  peculiar  objects  of  consciousness, 
says  Dr.  Reid,  are  all  the  present  passions  and  operations  of  our 
minds.  Consciousness  thus  has  for  its  objects,  among  the  other 
modifications  of  the  mind,  the  acts  of  our  cognitive  faculties. 
Now  here  a  doubt  arises.  If  consciousness  has  for  its  object 
the  cognitive  operations,  it  must  know  these  operations,  and,  as 
it  blows  these  operations,  it  must  know  their  objects:  conse- 
quently, consciousness  is  either  not  a  special  faculty,  but  a  fac- 
ulty comprehending  every  cognitive  act ;  *  or  it  must  be  held 

*  [We  know ;  and  We  know  that  we  know  .-  —  these  propositions,  logically 
distinct,  are  really  identical;  each  implies  the  other.  The  attempt  to 
analyze  the  cognition  /  A-«oit',  and  the  cognition  /  ^/jom?  that  I  know,  into  the 
separate  energies  of  distinct  faculties,  is  therefore  vain.  But  this  is  the 
analysis  of  Reid.  Consciousness,  which  the  formula  /  know  that  I  know 
adequately  expresses,  he  views  as  a  power  specifically  distinct  from  the 
various  cognitive  faculties  comprehended  under  the  formula  /  know,  pre- 
cisely as  these  faculties  are  severally  contradistinguished  from  each  other. 
But  here  the  parallel  does  not  hold.  I  can  feel  without  perceiving,  I  can 
perceive  without  imagining,  I  can  imagine  without  remembering,  I  can 
remember  without  judging  (in  the  emphatic  signification),  I  can  judge  with- 
out willing.  One  of  these  acts  docs  not  immediately  suppose  the  other. 
Though  modes  merely  of  the  same  indivisible  subject,  they  are  modes  in 

12* 


138 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


139 


HI 


that  there  is  a  double  knowledge  of  every  object, — fi^&lf  the 
knowledge  of  that  object  by  its  partictdar  facidty,  and  second,  a 
knowledge  of  it  by  consciousness,  as  taking  cognizance  of  every 
mental  operation.  But  the  former  of  these  alternatives  is  a 
surrender  of  consciousness  as  a  coordinate  and  special  faculty, 
and  the  latter  is  a  supposition  not  only  unphilosophical  but 
absurd.  Now,  you  will  attend  to  the  mode  in  which  Reid 
escapes,  or  endeavors  to  escape,  from  this  dilemma.  This  he 
does  by  assigning  to  consciousness,  as  its  object,  the  various 
intellectual  operations  to  the  exclusion  of  their  several  objects. 
"  I  am  conscious,"  he  says,  "  of  perception,  but  not  of  the 
object  I  perceive ;  I  am  conscious  of  memory,  but  not  of  the 
object  I  remember."  By  this  limitation,  if  tenable,  he  cer- 
tainly escapes  the  dilemma,  for  he  would  thus  disprove  the 
truth  of  the  principle  on  which  it  proceeds  —  namely,  that  to  be 
conscious  of  the  operation  of  a  faculty  is,  in  fact,  to  be  con- 
scious of  the  object  of  that  operation.  The  whole  question, 
therefore,  turns  upon  the  proof  or  disproof  of  this  principle ;  — 
for  if  it  can  be  shown  that  the  knowledge  of  an  operation  neces- 
sarily involves  the  knowledge  of  its  object,  it  follows  that  it  is 
impossible  to  make  consciousness  conversant  about  the  intel- 
lectual operations  to  the  exclusion  of  their  objects.  And  that 
this  principle  must  be  admitted,  is  what,  I  hope,  it  will  require 
but  little  argument  to  demonstrate. 

relation  to  each  other,  really  distinct,  and  admit,  therefore,  of  psychological 
discrimination.     But  can  I  feel  without  being  conscious  that  I  feel?  —  can 
I  remember,  without  being  conscious  that  I  remember  ?  or,  can  I  be  con- 
scious, without  being  conscious  that  I  perceive,  or  imagine,  or  reason,  — 
that  I  energize,  in  sliort,  in  some  determinate  mode,  which  Reid  would  view 
as  the  act  of  a  faculty  specifically  diiierent  from  consciousness  ?     That  tills 
is  impossible,  Reid  himself  admits.     But  if,  on  the  one  hand,  consciousness 
be  only  realized  under  specific  modes,  and  cannot  therefore  exist  apart  from 
the  several  faculties  iti  cinnulo ;  and  if,  on  the  other,  these  faculties  can  all 
and  each  only  be  exerted  under  the  condition  of  consciousness ;  conscious- 
ness, consequently,  is  not  one  of  the  special  modes  into  which  our  mental 
activity  may  be  resolved,  but  the  fundamental  form,  — the  generic  condi- 
tion of  them  all.     Every  intelligent  act  is  thus  a  modified  consciousness ; 
and  consciousness  a  comprehensive  term  for  the  complement  of  our  cogni- 
tive energies.]  — rHscussloiis. 


No  consciousness  of  a  cognitive  act  without  a  consciousness 
of  its  object.  —  Some  things  can  be  conceived  by  the  mind  each 
separate  and  alone ;  others,  only  in  connection  with  something 
else.     The  former  are  said  to  be  things  absolute  ;  the  latter,  to 
be  things  relative.     Socrates  and  Xanthippe  may  be  given  as 
examples   of  the   former;   husband   and  wife,   of   the   latter. 
Socrates  and  Xantliippe  can  each  be  represented  to  the  mind 
without  the  other ;  and,  if  they  are  associated  in  thought,  it  is 
only  by  an  accidental  connection.     Husband  and  wife,  on  the 
contrary,  cannot  be  conceived  apart.     As  relative  and  correla- 
tive, the  conception  of  husband  involves  the  conception  of  wife, 
and  the  conception  of  wife  involves  the  conception  of  husband. 
Each  is  thought  only  in  and  through  the  other,  and  it  is  unpos- 
sible  to  think  of  Socrates  as  the  husband  of  Xanthippe,  without 
thinking  of  Xanthippe  as  the  wife  of  Socrates.     We  cannot, 
therefore,  know  what  a  husband  is  without  also  knowing  what 
is  a  wife,  as,  on  the  other  hand,  we  cannot  know  what  a  wife  is 
without  also  knowing  what  is  a  husband.     You  will,  therefore, 
understand   from  this    example,   the   meaning  of   the   logical 
axiom,  that  the  knowledge  of  relatives  is  one,  —  or   that  the 
knowledge  of  relatives  is  the  same. 

This  being  premised,  it  is  evident  that,  if  our  intellectual 
operations  exist  only  in  relation,  it  must  be  impossible  that  con- 
sciousness can  take  cognizance  of  one  term  of  this  relation,  with- 
out also  takinjr  cooriizance  of  the  other.  Knoivledge,  in  general, 
is  a  relation  between  a  subject  knowing  and  an  object  known,  and 
each  operation  of  our  cognitive  faculties  only  exists  by  rela- 
tion to  a  particular  object,  — this  object  at  once  calling  it  into 
existence,  and  specifying  the  quality  of  its  existence.  It  is, 
therefore,  palpably  impossible  that  w^e  can  be  conscious  of  an 
act  without  being  conscious  of  the  object  to  which  that  act  is 
relative.*     This,  however,  is  what  Dr.  Reid  and  Mr.  Stewart 

*  [The  assertion,  that  we  can  be  conscious  of  an  act  of  knowledge,  with- 
out being  conscious  of  its  object,  is  virtually  suicidal.  A  mental  operation 
is  what  it  is,  only  by  relation  to  its  object ;  the  object  at  once  determining 
its  existence,  and  specifying  the  character  of  its  existence.  But  if  a  relation 
cannot  be  comprehended  in  one  of  its  terms,  so  we  cannot  be  conscious  of 


140 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


maintain.     They  maintain  that  I  can  know  that  I  know,  with- 
out knowing  what  I  know, -or  that  I  can  know  the  knowledge 
without  knowing  what  the  knowledge  is  about ;  for  exampfe, 
that  I  am  conscious  of  perceiving  a  book  without  bein-^  con- 
scious of  the  book  perceived,-  that  I  am  conscious  of  remem- 
bering Its  contents,  witliout  being  conscious  of  these  contents 
remembered,  —  and  so  forth.     The  unsoundness  of  this  opinion 
must,  however,  be  articulately  shown  by  taking  the  different 
faculties  in  detail,  which  they  have  contradistinguished  from 
consciousness,  and  by  showing,  in  regard  to  each,  that  it  is  alto- 
gether impossible  to  propose  the  operation  of  that  faculty  to  the 
consideration  of  consciousness,  and  to  withhold  from  conscious- 
ness its  object. 

Imagination 1  shall  commence  with  the  faculty  of  ImaW- 

nation,  to  which  Dr.  Reid  and  Mr.  Stewart  have  chosen,  und'er 
various  limitations,  to  give  [erroneously]  the  name  of  Concep- 
tion.  This  faculty  is  peculiarly  suited  to  evince  the  error  of 
holding  that  consciousness  is  cognizant  of  acts,  but  not  of  the 
objects  of  these  acts. 

"  Conceiving,  Imagining,  and  Apprehending,"  says  Dr.  Reid, 

are  commonly  used  as  synonymous  in  our  language,  and  si- 

mfy  the  same  thing  which  the  logicians  call  Simple  Apprehen- 

an  operation,  withoat  being  conscious  of  the  object  to  whici,  it  exists  only  aa 
con-elative.  For  e.xample,  _  We  are  conscious  of  a  perception,  says  Reid 
but  are  not  consc.ous  of  its  object.  Yet  how  can  we  be  c^.seious  of  a  ^. 
ceptto«.  that  IS,  how  can  we  know  that  a  perception  exists,  -  that  it  is  a  per- 
cepfon  and  not  another  mental  state, -and  that  it  is  the  perception  of  a 
ro»e,  and  of  notlung  but  a  rose  ;  unless  this  consciousness  involve  a  knowl- 
edge  (or  consciousness)  of  the  object,  which  at,jpce  determines  the  exist- 
ence of  the  act, -specifies  its  kind, -and  distinguishes  its  individuality? 
Ann.lulate  the  object,  you  annihilate  the  operation ;  annihilate  the  con- 
soonsness  ot  the  object,  you  annihilate  the  consciousness  of  the  operation 

the  ^l.,r'"7i  ""'",''T  '"'•"''  "^  ""'  ™^'""'™  '""S-'C^'  '"«  two  lerms  of 
the  rehmou  of  knowledge  exist  only  as  identical ;  the  object  admitting  only 

The  H  <"■*;■":■"■"«!»»  from  the  subject.     I  imagine  a  Hippo^rvph. 

H  n„  T-  !""■"  •■"'  ""  •""^'^^'^  •■  ""^"-^  "'"  ">e  consciousness  of  the 
H.ppogryph,  you  deny  me  the  consciousness  of  the  imagination ;  I  am 
conscious  of  zero ;  I  am  not  conscious  at  all.]  —  Discussions. 


i 


(I 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


141 


sion.  This  is  an  operation  of  the  mind  different  from  all  those 
we  have  mentioned  [Perception,  Memory,  etc.].  Whatever  we 
perceive,  whatever  we  remember,  whatever  we  are  conscious 
of,  we  have  a  full  persuasion  or  conviction  of  its  existence. 
What  never  had  an  existence  cannot  be  remembered;  what 
has  no  existence  at  present  cannot  be  the  object  of  perception 
or  of  consciousness ;  but  what  never  had,  nor  has  any  exist- 
ence, may  be  conceived.  Every  man  knows  that  it  is  as  easy 
to  conceive  a  winged  horse  or  a  centaur,  as  it  is  to  conceive  a 
horse  or  a  man.  Let  it  be  observed,  therefore,  that  to  con- 
ceive, to  imagine,  to  apprehend,  when  taken  in  the  proper  sense, 
signify  an  act  of  the  mind  which  implies  no  belief  or  judgment 
at  all.  It  is  an  act  of  the  mind  by  which  nothing  is  affirmed  or 
denied,  and  which,  therefore,  can  neither  be  true  nor  false." 
And  again :  "  Consciousness  is  employed  solely  about  objects 
that  do  exist,  or  have  existed.  But  conception  is  often  em- 
ployed about  objects  that  neither  do,  nor  did,  nor  will,  exist. 
This  is  the  very  nature  of  this  faculty,  that  its  object,  though 
distinctly  conceived,  may  have  no  existence.  Such  an  object 
Ave  call  a  creature  of  imagination,  but  this  creature  never  was 
created. 

"  That  we  may  not  impose  upon  ourselves  in  this  matter,  we 
must  distinguish  between  that  act  or  operation  of  the  mind, 
which  we  call  conceiving  an  object,  and  the  object  which  we 
conceive.  Wlien  we  conceive  any  thing,  there  is  a  real  act  or 
operation  of  the  mind ;  of  tliis  we  are  conscious,  and  can  have 
no  doubt  of  its  existence.  But  every  such  act  must  have  an 
object ;  for  he  that  conceives  must  conceive  something.  Sup- 
pose he  conceives  a  centaur,  he  may  have  a  distinct  conception 
of  this  object,  though  no  centaur  ever  existed."  And  again : 
"  I  conceive  a  centaur.  This  conception  is  an  operation  of  the 
mind  of  which  I  am  conscious,  and  to  which  I  can  attend.  The 
sole  object  of  it  is  a  centaur,  an  animal  which,  I  believe,  never 
existed." 

Now,  here  it  is  admitted  by  Reid,  that  imagination  has  an 
object,  and,  in  the  example  adduced,  that  this  object  has  no 
existence  out  of  the  mind.     The  object  of  imagination  is,  there- 


.V 


142 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


143 


fore,  in  the  mind,  —  is  a  modification  of  the  mind.  Now,  can 
it  be  maintained  that  there  can  be  a  modification  of  mind,  —  a 
modification  of  which  we  are  aware,  but  of  which  we  are  not 
conscious?  But  let  us  regard  the  matter  in  another  aspect. 
We  are  conscious,  says  Dr.  Reid,  of  the  imagination  of  a  cen- 
taur^ but  not  of  the  centaur  imagined.  Now,  nothing  can  be 
more  evident  than  that  the  object  and  the  act  of  imagination 
are  identical.  Thus,  in  the  example  alleged,  the  centaur 
imagined,  and  the  act  of  imagining  it,  are  one  and  indivisible. 
What  is  the  act  of  imagining  a  centaur  but  the  centaur  imaged, 
or  the  image  of  the  centaur ;  what  is  the  image  of  the  centaur 
but  the  act  of  imagining  it?  The  centaur  is  both  the  object 
and  the  act  of  ima;]rination :  it  is  the  same  thing  viewed  in 
different  relations.  It  is  called  the  object  of  imagination,  when 
considered  as  representing  a  possible  existence ;  —  for  every- 
thing that  can  be  construed  to  the  mind,  every  thing  that  does 
not  violate  the  laws  of  thought,  in  other  words,  every  thing 
that  does  not  involve  a  contradiction,  may  be  conceived  by 
the  mind  as  possible.*     I  say,  therefore,  that  the  centaur  ia 

*  [Reid  says,  "The  sole  object  of  conception  (imagination)  is  an  animal 
■which  I  believe  never  existed."  It '  never  existed ;  *  that  is,  never  really, 
never  in  nature,  never  externally,  existed.  But  it  is  *  an  object  of  imagina- 
tion.' It  is  not,  therefore,  a  mere  non-existence ;  for  if  it  had  no  kind  of 
existence,  it  could  not  possibly  be  the  positive  object  of  any  kind  of 
thought.  For  were  it  an  absolute  nothing,  it  could  have  no  qualities  {non- 
entis  nulla  sunt  attributa) ;  but  the  object  we  are  conscious  of,  as  a  Centaur, 
has  qualities,  —  qualities  which  constitute  it  a  determinate  something,  and 
distinguish  it  from  every  other  entity  whatsoever.  We  must,  therefore,  per 
force,  allow  it  some  sort  of  imaginary,  ideal,  representative,  or  (in  the  older 
meaning  of  the  term)  objective,  existence  in  the  mind.  Now  this  exist- 
ence can  only  be  one  or  other  of  two  sorts ;  for  such  object  in  the  mind 
either  is,  or  is  not,  a  mode  of  mind.  Of  these  alternatives  the  latter  cannot 
be  supposed ;  for  this  would  be  an  affirmation  of  the  crudest  kind  of  non- 
egoistical  representation  —  the  very  hypothesis  against  which  Reid  so 
strenuously  contends.  The  former  alternative  remains  —  that  it  is  a  mode 
of  the  imagining  mind,  —  that  it  is,  in  fact,  the  plastic  act  of  imagination, 
considered  as  representing  to  itself  a  certain  possil)le  form  —  a  Centaur. 
But  then  Reid's  assertion  —  that  there  is  always  an  object  distinct  from  the 
operation  of  the  mmd  conversant  about  it,  the  act  being  one  thing,  the 
object  of  the  act  another  —  must  be  surrendered.     For  the  object  and  the 


>.l 


called  the  object  of  imagination,  when  considered  as  repre- 
senting a  possible  existence ;  whereas  the  centaur  is  called 
the  act  of  imagination,  when  considered  as  the  creation,  work, 
or  operation,  of  the  mind  itself  The  centaur  imagined  and 
the  imagination  of  the  centaur  are  thus  as  much  the  same  indi- 
visible modification  of  mind,  as  a  square  is  the  same  figure, 
whether  we  consider  it  as  composed  of  four  sides,  or  as  composed 
of  four  angles,  —  or  as  paternity  is  the  same  relation  whether 
we  look  from  the  son  to  the  father,  or  from  the  father  to  the 
son.  We  cannot,  therefore,  be  conscious  of  imagining  an 
object,  without  being  conscious  of  the  object  imagined ;  and  as 
regards  imagination,  Reid's  limitation  of  consciousness  is,  there- 
fore, futile. 

Memory.  —  I  proceed  next  to  Memory :  —  "  It  is  by  Memory," 
says  Dr.  Reid,  "that  we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of 
things  past.  The  senses  give  us  information  of  things  only  as 
they  exist  m  the  present  moment ;  and  this  information,  if  it 
were  not  preserved  by  memory,  would  vanish  instantly,  and 
leave  us  as  ignorant  as  if  it  had  never  been.  Memoiy  must 
have  an  object.  Every  man  who  remembers  must  remember 
something,  and  that  which  he  remembers  is  called  the  object  of 
his  remembrance.  In  this,  memory  agrees  with  perception,  but 
differs  from  sensation,  which  has  no  object  but  the  feeHng  itself. 
Every  man  can  distinguish  the  thing  remembered  from  the 
remembrance  of  it.  We  may  remember  any  thing  which  we 
have  seen,  or  heard,  or  known,  or  done,  or  suffered ;  but  the 
remembrance  of  it  is  a  particular  act  of  the  mind  which  now 
exists,  and  of  wliich  we  are  conscious.  To  confound  these  two 
is  an  absurdity  which  a  thinking  man  could  not  be  led  into,  but 
by  some  false  hypothesis  which  hinders  him  from  reflecting 
upon  the  thing  which  he  would  explain  by  it."  "  The  object 
of  memory,  or  thing  remembered,  must  be  something  that  is 
past;  as  the  object  of  perception  and  of  consciousness  must, be 

act  are  here  only  one  and  the  same  thing  in  two  several  relations.  Reid's 
error  consists  in  mistaking  a  logical  for  a  metaphysical  difference  —  a  dis- 
tinction of  relation  for  a  distinction  of  entity.  Or  is  the  error  only  from 
the  vagueness  and  ambiguity  of  expression  ?]  —  Diss.  supp.  to  Reid. 


I 


144 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


something  which  is  present.  What  now  is,  cannot  be  an  object 
of  memory ;  neither  can  that  which  is  past  and  gone  be  an 
object  of  perception,  or  of  consciousness."  "  Sometimes,  in 
popular  discourse,  a  man  says  he  is  conscious  that  he  did  such 
a  thing,  meaning  that  he  distinctly  remembers  that  he  did  it. 
It  is  unnecessary,  in  common  discourse,  to  fix  accurately  the 
limits  between  consciousness  and  memory.  This  was  foi-merly 
shown  to  be  the  case  with  regard  to  sense  and  memory.  And, 
therefore,  distinct  remembrance  is  sometimes  called  sense, 
sometimes  consciousness,  without  any  inconvenience.  But  this 
ought  to  be  avoided  in  philosophy,  otherwise  we  confound  the 
different  powers  of  the  mind,  and  ascribe  to  one  what  really 
belongs  to  another.  If  a  man  be  conscious  of  what  he  did 
twenty  yeara  or  twenty  minutes  ago,  there  is  no  use  for  "mem- 
ory, nor  ought  we  to  allow  that  there  is  any  such  faculty.  The 
faculties  of  consciousness  and  memory  are  chiefly  distinguished 
by  this,  that  the  first  is  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  present, 
the  second  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  past." 

From  these  quotations  it  appears,  that  Reid  distinguishes 
memory  from  consciousness  in  this,  —  that  memory  is  an  im- 
mediate knowledge  of  the  past,  consciousness  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  the  present.  We  may,  therefore,  be  conscious 
of  the  act  of  memory  as  present,  but  of  the  object  of  memory 
as  past,  consciousness  is  impossible.  Now  if  memory  and  con- 
sciousness be,  as  Reid  asserts,  the  one  an  immediate  knowledge 
of  the  past,  the  other  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  present, 
it  is  evident  that  memory  is  a  facuhy  whose  object  lies  beyond 
the  sphere  of  consciousness ;  and,  consequently,  that  conscious- 
ness cannot  be  regarded  as  the  general  condition  of  every  intel- 
lectual act.  We  have  only,  therefore,  to  examine  whether  this 
attribution  of  repugnant  qualities  to  consciousness  and  memory 
be  correct,  —  whether  there  be  not  assigned  to  one  or  other  a 
function  which  does  not  really  belong  to  it. 

Now,  in  regard  to  what  Dr.  Reid  says  of  consciousness,  I 
admit  that  no  exception  can  be  taken.  Consciousness  is  an 
immediate  knowledge  of  the  present.  We  have,  indeed,  already 
shown  that  consciousness  is  an  immediate  knowledge,  and,  there- 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


145 


fore,  only  of  the  actual  or  now-existent.  This  being  admitted, 
and  professing,  as  we  do,  to  prove  that  consciousness  is  the  one 
generic  faculty  of  knowledge,  we  consequently  must  maintain 
that  all  knowledge  is  immediate,  and  only  of  the  actual  or 
present,  —  in  other  words,  that  what  is  called  mediate  knowl- 
edge, knowledge  of  the  past,  knowledge  of  the  absent,  knowl- 
edge of  the  non-actual  or  possible,  is  either  no  knowledge  at 
all,  or  only  a  knowledge  contained  in,  and  evolved  out  of,  an 
immediate  knowledge  of  what  is  now  existent  and  actually 
present  to  the  mind.  Tliis,  at  first  sight,  may  appear  like  para- 
dox ;  I  trust  you  will  soon  admit  that  the  counter  doctrine  is 
self-repugnant. 

Conditions  of  immediate  knowledge.  —  Let  us  first  determine 
what  immediate  knowledge  is,  and  then  see  whether  the  knowl- 
edge we  have  of  the  past,  through  memory,  can  come  under  the 
conditions  of  immediate  knowledg-e.  Now  nothingr  can  be  more 
evident  than  the  following  positions :  1°,  An  object  to  be  known 
immediately  must  be  known  in  itself,  —  that  is,  in  those  modifi- 
cations, qualities,  or  phaenomena,  through  which  it  manifests  its 
existence,  and  not  in  those  of  something  different  from  itself; 
for,  if  we  suppose  it  known  not  in  itself,  but  in  some  other 
thing,  then  this  other  thing  is  what  is  immediately  known, 
and  the  object  known  through  it  is  only  an  object  mediately 
known. 

But  2°,  If  a  thing  can  be  immediately  kno^vn  only  if  known 
in  itself,  it  is  manifest  that  it  can  only  be  known  in  itself,  if  it 
be  itself  actually  in  existence,  and  actually  in  immediate  rela- 
tion to  our  faculties  of  knowledge. 

Memory  not  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  past.  —  Such  are 
the  necessary  conditions  of  immediate  knowledge ;  and  they 
disprove  at  once  Dr.  Reid's  assertion,  that  memory  is  an  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  the  past.  An  immediate  knowledge  is  only 
conceivable  of  the  now  existent,  as  the  now  existent  alone  can 
be  known  in  itself.  But  the  past  is  only  past,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
not  now  existent ;  and  as  it  is  not  now  existent,  it  cannot  be 
known  in  itself.  The  immediate  knowledge  of  the  past  is, 
therefore,  impossible. 

13 


146 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


We  liave,  hitherto,  been  considerinj^  the  conditions  of  imme- 
diate knowledge  in  relation  to  the  object ;  let  us  now  consider 
them  in  relation  to  the  cognitive  act.  Every  act,  and  conse- 
quently, every  act  of  knowledge,  exists  only  as  it  now  exists ; 
and  as  it  exists  only  in  the  iiow,  it  can  be  eo^rnizant  onlv  of  a 
now-existent  object.  Memory  is  an  act,  —  an  act  of  knowledge  ; 
it  can,  therefore,  be  cognizant  only  of  a  now-existent  object. 
But  the  object  known  in  memory  is,  ex  hypothesis  past ;  conse- 
quently, we  are  reduced  to  the  dilemma,  either  of  refusing  a 
past  object  to  be  known  in  memory  at  all,  or  of  admitting  it  to 
be  only  mediately  known,  in  and  through  a  present  object. 
That  the  latter  alternative  is  the  true,  it  will  require  a  very 
few  explanatory  words  to  convince  you.  What  are  the  con- 
tents of  an  act  of  memory  ?  An  act  of  memory  is  merely  a 
present  state  of  mind,  which  we  are  conscious  of,  not  as  abso- 
lute, but  as  relative  to,  and  representing,  another  state  of  mind, 
and  accompanied  with  the  belief  that  the  state  of  mind,  as  now 
represented,  has  actually  been.  I  remember  an  event  I  saw,  — 
the  landing  of  George  lY.  at  Leith.  This  remembrance  is 
only  a  consciousness  of  certain  imaginations,  involving  the 
conviction  that  these  imaginations  now  represent  ideally  what  I 
formerly  really  experienced.  All  that  is  immediately  known 
in  the  act  of  memory,  is  the  present  mental  modification  ;  that 
is,  the  representation  and  concomitant  belief.  Beyond  this 
mental  modification,  we  know  nothing ;  and  this  mental  modifi- 
cation is  not  only  known  to  consciousness,  but  only  exists  in  and 
by  consciousness.  Of  any  past  object,  real  or  ideal,  the  mind 
knows  and  can  know  nothing,  for  ex  hypothesi,  no  such  object 
now  exists ;  or  if  it  be  said  to  know  such  an  object,  it  can  only 
be  said  to  know  it  mediately,  as  represented  in  the  present 
mejital  modification. 

Properly  speaking,  however,  we  know  only  the  actual  and 
present,  and  all  real  knowledge  is  an  immediate  knowledge. 
Wliat  is  said  to  be  mediately  known,  is,  in  truth,  not  known  to 
be,  but  only  believed  to  l)e ;  for  its  existence  is  only  an  inference 
resting  on  the  belief,  that  the  mental  modification  truly  repre- 
sents what  is  in  itself  beyond  the  sphere  of  knowledge.     What 


CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY. 


147 


is  immediately  known  must  be  ;  for  what  is  immediately  known 
is  supposed  to  be  known  as  existing.  The  denial  of  the  exi.st- 
ence,  and  of  the  existence  within  the  sphere  of  consciousness, 
involves,  therefore,  a  denial  of  the  immediate  knowledge  of  an 
object.  We  may,  accordingly,  doubt  the  reality  of  any  object 
of  mediate  knowledge,  without  denying  the  reality  of  the  im- 
mediate knowledge  on  which  the  mediate  knowledge  rests.  In 
memory,  for  instance,  w^e  cannot  deny  the  existence  of  the 
present  representation  and  belief,  for  their  existence  is  the  con- 
sciousness of  their  existence  itself.  To  doubt  their  existence, 
therefore,  is  for  us  to  doubt  the  existence  of  our  conscious- 
ness. But  as  this  doubt  itself  exists  only  through  consciousness, 
it  would,  consequently,  annihilate  itself.  But,  though  in  mem- 
ory we  must  admit  the  reality  of  the  representation  and  belief, 
as  facts  of  consciousness,  we  may  doubt,  we  may  deny,  that  the 
representation  and  belief  are  true.  We  may  assert  that  they 
represent  what  never  was,  and  that  all  beyond  their  present 
mental  existence  is  a  delusion.  This,  however,  could  not  be 
the  case  if  our  knowledge  of  the  past  were  immediate.  So 
far,  therefore,  is  memory  from  being  an  immediate  knowledge 
of  the  past,  that  it  is  at  best  only  a  mediate  knowledge  of  the 
past ;  while,  in  philosophical  propriety,  it  is  not  a  knowledge  of 
the  past  at  all,  but  a  knowledge  of  the  present  and  a  belief  of 
the  past.  But  in  whatever  terms  we  may  choose  to  designate 
the  contents  of  memory,  it  is  manifest  that  these  contents  are 
all  within  the  sphere  of  consciousness.'*' 


*  [This  criticism  on  Reid's  doctrine  of  memory  is  hardly  fair,  for  it  seems 
to  be  founded  on  a  misapprehension  of  his  use  of  language.  The  word 
"immediate  "  has  two  meanings  :  —  first,  as  present,  instant,  or  now  existing. 
In  this  -^ense,  we  say,  "  There  is  a  call  for  immediate  action,"  meaning 
thereby  instant  action.  Secondly,  it  may  mean  direct,  proximate,  or  ivithout 
tJie  intervention  of  any  ot/ier  thing ;  thus,  "  The  immediate  agency  of  God," 
signifies  his  direct  action,  without  the  intervention  of  any  second  cause.  In 
treating  of  memory,  Reid  uses  the  word  *'  immediate  "  in  the  former  accep- 
tation, Hamilton  in  the  latter.  Hence  there  is  no  contradiction  between 
them.  Either  might  have  accepted  the  other's  doctrine  as  supplementary 
to  his  own,  —  certainly  as  not  contradicting  it.]  — Am.  Ed, 


EELATION  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  TO  PERCEPTION.       149 


I 


CHAPTER  X. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  NOT  A  SPECIAL  FACULTY  CONTINUED  ;  ITS 
EELATION  TO  PERCEPTION,  ATTENTION,  AND  REFLEC- 
TION. 

Reid  contradistinguishes  consciousness  from  perception. — 
We  now  proceed  to  consider  the  third  facuhy  which  Dr.  Reid 
specially  contradistinguishes  from  Consciousness,  —  I  mean 
Perception,  or  that  faculty  through  which  we  obtain  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  external  world.  Now,  you  will  observe  that  Reid 
maintains,  against  the  immense  majority  of  all,  and  the  entire 
multitude  of  modern,  philosophers,  that  we  have  a  direct  and 
immediate  hiowledge  of  the  external  world.  He  thus  vindicates 
to  j^iind  not  only  an  immediate  knowledge  of  its  own  modifica- 
tions, but  also  an  immediate  knowledge  of  what  is  essentially 
different  from  mind  or  self,  —  the  modifications  of  matter.  He 
did  not,  however,  allow  that  these  were  known  by  any  common 
faculty,  but  held  that  the  qualities  of  mind  were  exclusively 
made  known  to  us  by  Consciousness,  the  qualities  of  matter 
exclusively  made  known  to  us  by  Perception.  Consciousness 
was,  thus,  the  faculty  of  innnediate  knowledge  purely  suhjective  ; 
perception,  the  faculty  of  immediate  knowledge  purely  objective. 
The  Ego  was  known  by  one  faculty,  the  Non-Ego  by  another. 
"  Consciousness,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "  is  only  of  tilings  in  the  mind, 
and  not  of  external  things.  It  is  improper  to  say,  I  am  con- 
scious of  the  table  which  is  before  me.  I  perceive  it,  I  see  it, 
but  do  not  say  I  am  conscious  of  it.  As  that  consciousness  by 
which  we  have  a  knowledge  of  the  operations  of  our  own 
minds,  is  a  difierent  power  from  that  by  which  we  perceive 
external  objects,  and  as  these  different  powers  have  different 

names  in  our  language,  and,  I  believe,  in  all  languages,  a  philos- 
(148) 


opher  ought  carefully  to  preserve  this  distinction,  and  never  to 
confound  things  so  different  in  their  nature."  And  in  another 
place  he  observes :  —  "  Consciousness  always  goes  along  with 
perception ;  but  they  are  different  operations  of  the  mind,  and 
they  have  their  different  objects.  Consciousness  is  not  percep- 
tion, nor  is  the  object  of  consciousness  the  object  of  perception." 
Dr.  Reid  has  many  merits  as  a  speculator,  but  the  only  merit 
which  he  arrogates  to  liimself,  —  the  principal  merit  accorded 
to  him  by  others,  —  is,  that  he- was  the  first  philosopher,  in 
more  recent  tunes,  who  dared,  in  his  doctrine  of  immediate 
perception,  to  vindicate,  against  the  unanimous  authority  of 
philosophers,  the  universal  conviction  of  mankind.  But  this 
doctrine  he  has  at  best  imperfectly  developed,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  has  unfortunately  obscured  it  by  errors  of  so  singular 
a  character,  that  some  acute  philosophers  have  never  even 
suspected  what  his  doctrine  of  perception  actually  is.  One  of 
these  errors  is  the  contradistinction  of  perception  from  con- 
sciousness. 

Doctrine  of  representative  perception  in  tioo  forms.  —  I  may 
here  notice,  by  anticipation,  that  philosophers,  at  least  modern 
philosophers,  before  Reid,  allowed  to  the  mind  no  immediate 
knowledge  of  the  external  reality.  They  conceded  to  it  only  a 
representative  or  mediate  knowledge  of  external  things.  Of 
these  some,  however,  held  that  the  representative  object  —  the 
object  immediately  known  —  was  different  from  the  mind  know- 
ing, as  it  was  also  different  from  the  reality  it  represented; 
while  others,  on  a  simpler  hypothesis,  maintained  that  there  was 
710  immediate  entity,  no  tertium  quid,  between  the  reality  and  the 
mind,  but  that  the  immediate  or  representative  object  tvas  itself 
a  mental  modification.  The  latter  thus  granting  to  mind  no 
immediate  knowledge  of  aught  beyond  its  own  modification, 
could,  consequently,  only  recognize  a  consciousness  of  self. 
The  former,  on  the  contrary,  could,  as  they  actually  did,  accord 
to  consciousness  a  cognizance  of  not-self.  Now  Reid,  after 
asserting  against  the  philosophers  the  immediacy  of  our  knowl- 
edge of  external  things,  would  almost  appear  to  have  been 
startled  by  liis  own  boldness,  and,  instead  of  carrying  his  prm- 

13* 


\ 


150   RELATION  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  TO  PERCEPTION. 


ciple  fairly  to  its  issue,  by  according  to  consciousness  on  his 
doctrine  that  knowledge*  of  the  external  world  as  existing, 
which,  in  the  doctrine  of  the  philosophers,  it  obtained  of  the 
external  world  as  represented,  he  inconsistently  stopped  short, 
split  immediate  knowledge  into  two  parts,  and  bestowed  the 
knowledge  of  material  qualities  on  perception  alone,  allowing 
that  of  mental  modifications  to  remain  exclusively  with  con- 
sciousness. Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  exemption  of 
the  objects  of  perception  from  the  sphere  of  consciousness 
can  be  easily  shown  to  be  self-contradictory. 

Held  maintains  that  we  are  not  conscious  of  matter.  —  "VYliat ! 
say  the  partisans  of  Dr.  Reid,  are  we  not  to  distinguish,  as  the 
product  of  different  faculties,  the  knowledge  we  obtain  of  objects 
in  themselves  the  most  opposite  ?  Mind  and  matter  are  mutu- 
ally separated  by  the  whole  diameter  of  being.  INIind  and 
matter  are,  in  fact,  nothing  but  words  to  express  two  series  of  . 
phaenomena  known  less  in  themselves  than  in  contradistinction 
from  each  other.  The  difference  of  the  phaenomena  to  be 
known,  surely  legitimates  a  difference  of  faculty  to  know  them. 
In  answer  to  this,  we  admit  at  once,  that  —  were  the  question 
merely  whether  we  should  not  distinguish,  under  consciousness, 
two  special  faculties,  —  whether  we  should  not  study  apai't,  and 
bestow  distinctive  appellations  on  consciousness  considered  as 
more  particuhirly  cognizant  of  the  external  world,  and  on  con- 
sciousness considered  as  more  particularly  cognizant  of  the 
internal  —  this  would  be  highly  proper  and  expedient.  But  this 
is  not  the  question.  Dr.  Reid  distinguishes  consciousness  as  a 
special  faculty  from  perception  as  a  special  faculty,  and  he 
allows  to  the  former  the  cognizance  of  the  latter  in  its  operation, 
to  the  exclusion  of  its  object.  He  maintains  that  we  are  con- 
scious of  our  perception  of  a  rose,  but  not  of  the  rose  perceived ; 
that  we  know  the  ego  by  one  act  of  knowledge,  the  non-ego  by 
another.  This  doctrine  I  hold  to  be  erroneous,  and  it  is  this 
doctrine  I  now  proceed  to  refute. 

Heid  IS  wrong ^  because  1°,  the  knowledge  of  opposites  is  one, 
—  In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  only  a  logical  axiom,  but  a  self- 
evident  truth,  that  the  knowledge  of  opposites  is  one.     Thus, 


RELATION  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  TO  PERCEPTION.       151 

we  cannot  know  what  is  tall  without  knowing  what  is  short,  — 
we  know  what  is  virtue  only  as  we  know  what  is  vice,  —  the 
science  of  health  is  but  another  name  for  the  science  of  disease. 
Nor  do  we  know  the  opposites,  the  I  and  Thou,  the  Ego  and 
the  Non-ego,  the  subject  and  object,  mind  and  matter,  by  a  dif- 
ferent law.  The  act  which  aflirms  that  this  particular  phae- 
nomenon  is  a  modification  of  Me,  virtually  affirms  that  the 
phainom  nion  is  not  a  modification  of  any  thing  different  from 
Me,  and,  consequently  implies  a  common  cognizance  of  self 
and  not-self;  the  act  which  affirms  that  this  other  phaenomenon 
is  a  modification  of  something  different  from  Me,  virtually  af- 
firms that  the  phaenomenon  is  not  a  modification  of  Me,  and, 
consequently,  implies  a  common  cognizance  of  not-self  and 
self.  But  unless  we  are  prepared  to  maintain  that  the  faculty 
cognizant  of  self  and  not-self  is  different  from  the  faculty  cog- 
nizant of  not-self  and  self,  we  must  allow  that  the  ego  and  non- 
ego  are  known  and  discriminated  in  the  same  indivisible  act  of 
knowledge.  What,  then,  is  the  faculty  of  which  this  act  of 
knowledge  is  the  energy?  It  cannot  be  Reid's  consciousness, 
for  that  is  cognizant  only  of  the  ego  or  mind ;  —  it  cannot  be 
Reid's  perception,  for  that  is  cognizant  only  of  the  non-ego  or 
matter.  But  as  the  act  cannot  be  denied,  so  the  faculty  must 
be  admitted.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  found  in  Reid's  cata- 
logue. But  though  not  recognized  by  Reid  in  his  system,  its 
necessity  may,  even  on  his  hypothesis,  be  proved.  For  if,  with 
him,  we  allow  only  a  special  faculty  immediately  cognizant  of 
the  ego,  and  a  special  faculty  immediately  cognizant  of  the  non- 
ego,  we  are  at  once  met  by  the  question.  By  what  faculty  are 
the  ego  and  non-ego  discriminated?  We  cannot  say  by  con- 
sciousness, for  that  knows  nothing  but  mind  ;  —  we  cannot  say 
by  perception,  for  that  knows  nothing  but  matter.  But  as 
mind  and  matter  are  never  known  apart  and  by  themselves,  but 
always  in  mutual  correlation  and  contrast,  this  knowledge  of 
them  in  connection  must  be  the  function  of  some  faculty,  not 
like  Reid's  consciousness  and  perception,  severally  limited  to 
mind  and  to  matter  as  exclusive  objects,  but  cognizant  of  them 
as  the  ego  and  non-ego,  —  as  the  two  terms  of  a  relation.     It 


Z' 


152   RELATION  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  TO  PERCEPTION. 


RELATION  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  TO  PERCEPTION.   153 


is  thus  shown  that  an  act  and  a  ftieulty  must,  peiforce,  on  Reid's 
own  hypothesis,  be  admitted,  in  which  these  two  terms  shall  be 
comprehended  together  in  the  unity  of  knowledge,  —  in  short, 
a  higher  consciousness,  embracing  Reid's  consciousness  and 
perception,  and  in  which  the  two  acts,  severally  cognitive  of 
mind  and  of  matter,  shall  be  comprehended  and  reduced  to 
unity  and  correlation.  But  what  is  this  but  to  admit  at  hist,  in 
an  unphilosophical  complexity,  the  common  consciousness  of 
subject  and  object,  of  mind  and  matter,  which  we  set  out  with 
denying  in  its  philosophical  simplicity  ? 

[The  immediate  knowledge  which  Reid  allows  of  things  dif- 
ferent from  the  mind,  and  the  immediate  knowledge  of  mind 
itself,  cannot  therefore  be  split  into  two  distinct  acts.  In  per- 
ception, as  in  the  other  faculties,  the  same  indivisible  conscious- 
ness is  conversant  about  both  terms  of  the  relation  of  knowledge. 
Distinguish  the  cognition  of  the  subject  from  the  cognition  of 
the  object  of  perception,  and  you  either  annihilate  the  relation 
of  knowledge  itself,  which  exists  only  in  its  terms  being  com- 
prehended together  in  the  unity  of  consciousness ;  or  you  must 
postulate  a  higher  faculty,  which  shall  again  reduce  to  one  the 
two  cognitions  you  have  distinguished  ;  —  that  is,  you  are  at  last 
compelled  to  admit,  in  an  unphilosophical  complexity,  that  com- 
mon consciousness  of  subject  and  object,  which  you  set  out  with 
denying  in  its  philosophical  simplicity.  Consciousness  and  im- 
mediate knowledge  are  thus  terms  universally  convertible ;  and 
if  there  be  an  immediate  knowledge  of  things  external,  there 
is  consequently  the  consciousness  of  an  outer  ivorld, 

(To  obviate  misapprehension,  we  may  here  parenthetically 
observe,  that  all  we  do  intuitively  know  of  self,  —  all  that  we 
may  intuitively  know  of  not-self,  is  only  relative.  Existence, 
ahsolutely  and  in  itself ^  is  to  us  as  zero ;  and  while  nothing  is, 
so  nothing  is  known  to  us,  except  those  phases  of  being  which 
stand  in  analogy  to  our  faculties  of  knowledge.  These  we  call 
qualities,  phenomena,  properties,  etc.  When  we  say,  therefore, 
that  a  tiling  is  known  in  itself,  we  mean  only  that  it  stands  face 
to  face,  in  direct  and  immediate  relation  to  the  conscious  mind ; 
in  other  words,  that,  as  existing,  its  phenomena  form  part  of  the 


I 


circle  of  our  knowledge,  —  exist  since  they  are  known,  and  are 
known  because  they  exist.)  —  Discussions. 

Because,  2°,  he  thus  contradicts  his  own  doctrine  of  an  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  the  external  world.  —  But  in  the  second 
place,  the  attempt  of  Reid  to  make  consciousness  conversant 
about  the  various  cognitive  faculties  to  the  exclusion  of  their 
objects,  is  equally  impossible  in  regard  to  Perception,  as  we 
have  shown  it  to  be  in  relation  to  Imagination  and  Memory ; 
nay,  the  attempt,  in  the  case  of  perception,  would,  if  allowed, 
be  even  suicidal  of  his  great  doctrine  of  our  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  the  external  world. 

Reid*s  assertion,  that  we  are  conscious  of  the  act  of  percep- 
tion, but  not  of  the  object  perceived,  involves,  first  of  all,  a 
general  absurdity.  For  it  virtually  asserts  that  we  can  know 
what  we  are  not  conscious  of  knowing.  An  act  of  perception 
is  an  act  of  knowledge  ;  what  we  perceive,  that  we  know.  Now, 
if  in  perception  there  be  an  external  reality  known,  but  of 
which  external  reality  we  are,  on  Reid's  hypothesis,  not  con- 
scious, then  is  there  an  object  know^n,  of  which  we  are  not  con- 
scious. But  as  we  know  only  inasmuch  as  we  know  that  we 
know,  —  in  other  words,  inasmuch  as  we  are  conscious  that  we 
know,  —  we  cannot  know  an  object  without  being  conscious  of 
that  object  as  known ;  consequently,  we  cannot  perceive  an 
object  without  being  conscious  of  that  object  as  perceived. 

But,  again,  how  is  it  possible  that  we  can  be  conscious  of  an 
operation  of  perception,  unless  consciousness  be  coextensive 
with  that  act ;  and  how  can  it  be  coextensive  with  the  act,  and 
not  also  conversant  with  its  object?  An  act  of  knowledge  is 
only  possible  in  relation  to  an  object,  —  and  it  is  an  act  of  one 
kind  or  another  only  by  special  relation  to  a  particular  object. 
Thus  the  object  at  once  determines  the  existence,  and  specifies 
the  character  of  the  existence,  of  the  intellectual  energy.  An 
act  of  knowledge  existing,  and  being  wiiat  it  is,  only  by  relation 
to  its  object,  it  is  manifest  that  the  act  can  be  known  only 
through  the  object  to  which  it  is  correlative  ;  and  Reid's  suppo- 
sition, that  an  operation  can  be  known  in  consciousness  to  the 
exclusion  of  its  object,  is  impossible.     For  example,  I  see  the 


154   RELATION  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  TO  TERCEPTION. 


RELATION  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS  TO  PERCEPTION.   155 


fl  !' 


inkstand.  How  can  I  be  conscious  that  my  present  modifica- 
tion exists,  —  that  it  is  a  perception,  and  not  another  mental 
state,  —  that  it  is  a  perception  of  sight  to  the  exclusion  of  every 
other  sense,  —  and,  finally,  that  it  is  a  perception  of  the  ink- 
stand and  of  the  inkstand  only,  —  unless  my  consciousness  com- 
prehend within  its  sphere  the  object,  which  at  once  determines 
the  existence  of  the  act,  qualifies  its  kind,  and  distinguishes  its 
individuality  ?  Annihilate  the  inkstand,  you  annihilate  the  per- 
ception ;  annihilate  the  consciousness  of  the  object,  you  anni- 
hilate the  consciousness  of  the  operation. 

The  apparent  incongruity  of  the  expression  explained.  —  It 
undoubtedly  sounds  strange  to  say,  I  am  conscious  of  the  ink- 
stand, instead  of  saying,  I  am  conscious  of  the  perception  of 
the  inkstand.  This  I  admit ;  but  the  admission  can  avail  noth- 
ing to  Dr.  Reid,  ^ov  the  apparent  incongruity  of  the  expression 
arises  only  from  the  prevalence  of  that  doctrine  of  perception  in 
the  schools  of  philosophy,  which  it  is  his  principal  merit  to 
have  so  vigorously  assailed.  So  long  as  it  was  universally 
assumed  l)y  the  learned,  that  the  mind  is  cognizant  of  nothing 
beyond,  either,  on  one  theoiy,  its  own  representative  modifica- 
tions, or,  on  another,  the  species,  ideas,  or  representative  enti- 
ties, different  from  itself,  which  it  contains,  and  that  all  it  knows 
of  a  material  world  is  only  an  internal  representation  which,  by 
the  necessity  of  its  nature,  it  mistakes  for  an  external  reality,  — 
the  supposition  of  an  immediate  knowledge  of  material  phaj- 
nomena  was  regarded  only  as  a  vulgar,  an  unphilosophical  illu- 
sion ;  and  the  term  consciousness,  which  was  exclusively  a 
learned  or  technical  expression  for  all  immediate  knowledge, 
was,  consequently,  never  employed  to  express  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  aught  beyond  the  mind  itself;  and  thus,  when  at 
length,  by  Reid's  own  refutation  of  the  prevailing  doctrine,  it 
becomes  necessary  to  extend  the  term  to  the  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  external  objects,  this  extension,  so  discordant  with 
philosophic  usage,  is,  by  the  force  of  association  and  custom, 
felt  at  first  as  strange  and  even  contradictory.  A  sliglit  con- 
sideration, however,  is  sufficient  to  reconcile  us  to  the  expres- 
sion, in  showing,  if  we  hold  the  doctrine  of  immediate  per- 


ception, the  necessity  of  not  limiting  consciousness  to  our 
subjective  states.  In  fact,  if  we  look  beneath  the  surface, 
consciousness  was  not,  in  general,  restricted,  even  in  philosophi- 
cal usage,  to  the  modifications  of  the  conscious  self  That  gi*eat 
majority  of  philosophers  who  held  that,  in  perception,  we  know 
nothing  of  the  external  reality  as  existing,  but  that  we  are 
immediately  cognizant  only  of  a  representative  something,  dif- 
ferent both  from  the  object  represented  and  from  the  percipient 
mind,  —  these  philosophers,  one  and  all,  admitted  that  we  are 
conscious  of  this  tertium  quid  present  to,  but  not  a  modification 
of,  mind ;  —  for,  except  Reid  and  his  school,  I  am  aware  of  no 
philosophers  who  denied  that  consciousness  was  coextensive  or 
identical  with  immediate  knowledge. 

Hoiv  some  of  the  self-contradictions  of  Reid's  doctrine  may  be 
avoided.  —  But,  in  the  tlyrd  place,  we  have  previously  reserved 
a  supposition  on  which  we  may  possibly  avoid  some  of  the  self- 
contradictions  which  emerge  from  Reid's  proposing  as  the 
object  of  consciousness  the  act,  but  excluding  from  its  cogni- 
zance the  object,  of  perception ;  that  is,  the  object  of  its  own 
object.  The  supposition  is,  that  Dr.  Reid  committed  the  same 
error  in  regard  to  perception,  which  he  did  in  regard  to  mem- 
ory and  imagination ;  and  that,  in  maintaining  our  immediate 
knowledge  in  perception,  he  meant  nothing  more  tlian  to  main- 
tain, that  the  mind  is  not,  in  that  act,  cognizant  of  any  repre- 
sentative object  different  from  its  own  modification,  of  any  ter- 
tium quid  ministering  between  itself  and  the  external  reality ; 
but  that,  in  perception,  the  mind  is  determined  itself  to  repre- 
sent the  unknown  external  reality,  and  that,  on  this  self-repre- 
sentation, he  abusively  bestowed  the  name  of  immediate  knowl- 
edge, in  contrast  to  that  more  complex  theory  of  perception, 
which  holds  that  there  mtervenes  between  the  percipient  mmd 
and  the  external  existence  an  intermediate  something,  different 
from  both,  by  which  the  former  knows,  and  by  which  the  latter 
i-  represented.  On  the  supposition  of  this  mistake,  we  may 
believe  him  guiltless  of  the  others ;  and  we  can  certainly,  on 
this  ground,  more  easily  conceive  how  he  could  accord  to  con- 
sciousness a  knowledge  only  of  the  percipient  act,  —  meaning 


156 


ATTENTION  AND  REFLECTION. 


ATTENTION  AND  REFLECTION. 


157 


ill  r 


!::l 


u 


by  that  act  the  representation  of  the  external  reality ;  and  how 
he  could  deny  to  consciousness  a  knowledge  of  the  object  of 
perception,  —  meaning  by  that  object  the  unknown  reality  itself. 
This  is  the  only  opinion  which  Dr.  Brown  and  others  ever  sus- 
pect him  of  maintaining ;  and  a  strong  case  might  certainly  be 
made  out  to  prove  that  this  view  of  his  doctrine  is  correct. 
But  if  such  were,  in  truth,  Reid's  opinion,  then  has  he  accom- 
plished nothing,  —  his  whole  philosophy  is  one  mighty  blunder 
For,  as  I  shall  hereaftei*  show,  idealism  finds  in  this  simpler 
hypothesis  of  representation  even  a  more  secure  foundation 
than  on  the  other ;  and,  in  point  of  fact,  on  this  hypothesis,  the 
most  philosophical  scheme  of  idealism  that  exists,  —  the  Egois- 
tic or  Fichtean,  —  is  established. 

Taking,  however,  the  general  analogy  of  Reid*s  system,  and 
a  great  number  of  unambiguous  passages  into  account,  I  am 
satisfied  that  this  view  of  his  doctrine  is  erroneous ;  and  I  shall 
endeavor,  when  we  come  to  treat  of  mediate  and  immediate 
knowledge,  to  explain  how,  from  his  never  having  formed  to 
himself  an  adequate  conception  of  these  under  all  their  possi- 
ble forms,  and  from  his  historical  ignorance  of  them  as  actually 
held  by  philosophers,  —  he  often  appears  to  speak  in  contradic- 
tion of  the  vital  doctrine  which,  in  equity,  he  must  be  held  to 
have  steadily  maintained. 

Reid  and  Stewart  on  Attention  and  Reflection,  —  Besides 
the  operations  we  have  already  considered,  —  Imagination  or 
Conception,  Memory,  and  Perception,  which  Dr.  Reid  and  Mr. 
Stewart  have  endeavored  to  discriminate  from  Consciousness, 
—  there  are  further  to  be  considered  Attention  and  Reflection, 
which,  in  like  manner,  they  have  maintained  to  be  an  act  or 
acts,  not  subordinate  to,  or  contained  in,  Consciousness.  But 
before  proceeding  to  show  that  their  doctrine  on  this  point  is 
almost  etpially  untenable  as  on  the  preceding,  it  is  necessary 
to  clear  up  some  confusion,  and  to  notice  certain  collateral 
errors. 

Reid  either  employs  these  terms  as  synonymous  expressions, 
or  he  distinguishes  them  only  by  making  Attention  relative  to 
the  consciouness  and  perception  of  the  present ;  Reflection  to 


the  memory  of  the  past.  He  says,  "  In  order,  however,  to  our 
having  a  distinct  notion  of  any  of  the  operations  of  our  own 
minds,  it  is  not  enough  that  we  be  conscious  of  them,  for  all 
men  have  this  consciousness :  it  is  further  necessary  that  we 
attend  to  them  while  they  are  exerted,  and  reflect  upon  them 
with  care  while  they  are  recent  and  fresh  in  our  memory.  It 
is  necessary  that,  by  employing  ourselves  frequently  in  this 
way,  we  get  the  habit  of  this  attention  and  reflection,"  etc. 
And  "  Mr.  Locke,"  he  says,  "  has  restricted  the  word  reflection 
to  that  which  is  employed  about  the  operations  of  our  minds, 
without  any  authority,  as  I  think,  from  custom,  the  arbiter  of 
language :  for  surely  I  may  reflect  upon  what  I  have  seen  or 
heard,  as  well  as  upon  what  I  have  thought.  The  word,  in  its 
proper  and  common  meaning,  is  equally  applicable  to  objects  of 
sense,  and  to  objects  of  consciousness.  He  has  likewise  con- 
founded reflection  with  consciousness,  and  seems  not  to  have 
been  aware  that  they  are  different  powers,  and  appear  at  very 
different  periods  of  life."  In  the  first  of  these  quotations,  Reid 
might  use  attention  in  relation  to  the  consciousness  of  the 
present,  reflection^  to  the  memory  of  the  past;  but  in  the 
second,  in  saying  that  reflection  "is  equally  applicable  to 
objects  of  sense  and  to  objects  of  conscioiftness,"  he  distinctly 
indicates  that  the  two  terms  are  used  by  him  as  convertible. 
Reid  (I  may  notice  by  the  way)  is  wholly  wrong  in  his  stric- 
tures on  Locke  for  his  restricted  usage  of  the  term  refl^ection ; 
for  it  was  not  until  after  his  time,  that  the  term  came,  by  Wolf, 
to  be  philosophically  employed  in  a  more  extended  signification 
than  that  in  wliich  Locke  correctly  apphes  it.  Reid  is  likewise 
wrong,  if  we  literally  understand  his  words,  in  saying  that 
reflection  is  employed  in  common  language  in  relation  to  objects 
of  sense.  It  is  never  employed  except  upon  the  mind  and  its 
contents.  We  cannot  be  said  to  reflect  upon  any  external 
object,  except  in  so  far  as  that  object  has  been  previously  per- 
ceived, and  its  image  become  part  and  parcel  of  our  intellectual 
furniture.  We  may  be  said  to  reflect  upon  it  in  memory,  but 
not  in  perception.     But  to  return. 

Reid,  therefore,  you  will  observe,  identifies  Attention  and 

14 


158 


ATTENTION  AND  REFLECTION. 


Reflection.  Now  Mr.  Stewart  says,  "  Some  important  observa- 
tions on  the  subject  of  attention  occur  in  different  parts  of  Dr. 
Reid's  writings.  To  this  ingenious  author  we  are  indebted  for 
the  remark,  that  attention  to  things  external  is  properly  called 
observation  ;  and  attention  to  the  subjects  of  our  consciousness, 
reflection. 

There  is,  likewise,  another  oversight  of  Mr.  Stewart  which  I 
may  notice.  "JVJthough,"  he  says,  "the  connection  between 
attention  and  memory  has  been  frequently  remarked  in  general 
terms,  I  do  not  recollect  that  the  power  of  attention  has  been 
mentioned  by  any  of  the  writers  on  pneumatology  in  their  enu- 
meration of  faculties  of  the  mind ;  nor  has  it  been  considered 
by  any  one,  so  far  as  I  know,  as  of  sufficient  importance  to 
deserve  a  particular  examination."  So  far  is  this  from  being 
the  case,  that  there  are  many  previous  authors  who  have  con- 
sidered attention  as  a  separate  fticuhy,  and  treated  of  it  even 
at  greater  length  than  Mr.  Stewart  himself.  This  is  true  not 
only  of  the  celebrated  Wolf,  but  of  the  whole  Wolfian  school ; 
and  to  these  I  may  add  Condilhic,  Malebranche,  and  many 
others.     But  this  by  the  way. 

Is  Attention  a  faculty  distinct  from  consciousness!  —  Taking, 
however.  Attention  Imd  Reflection  for  acts  of  the  same  faculty, 
and  supposing,  with  Mr.  Stewart,  that  reflection  is  properly 
attention  directed  to  the  phsenomena  of  mind;  observation, 
attention  directed  to  the  phitnomena  of  matter ;  the  main  ques- 
tion comes  to  be  considered.  Is  Attention  a  faculty  diflferent 
from  Consciousness,  as  Reid  and  Stewart  maintain?  As  the 
latter  of  these  philosophers  has  not  argued  the  point  himself, 
but  merely  refers  to  the  arguments  of  the  former  in  conflrma- 
tion  of  their  common  doctrine,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  adduce  the 
following  passage  from  Reid,  in  which  his  doctrine  on  this  head 
is  contained.  "  I  return,"  he  says,  "  to  what  I  mentioned  as 
the  mam  source  of  information  on  this  subject,  —  attentive  re- 
flection upon  the  operations  of  our  own  minds. 

"  All  the  notions  we  have  of  mind  and  its  operations,  are,  by 
Mr.  Locke,  called  ideas  of  reflection.  A  man  may  have  as  dis- 
tinct notions  of  remembrance,  of  judgment,  of  will,  of  desire, 


NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


159 


as  he  has  of  any  object  whatever.  Such  notions,  as  Mr.  Locke 
justly  observes,  are  got  by  the  power  of  reflection.  But  what 
is  this  power  of  reflection  ?  '  It  is,'  says  the  same  author,  '  that 
power  by  which  the  mind  turns  its  view  inward,  and  observes 
its  own  actions  and  operations.'  He  observes  elsewhere,  '  That 
the  understanding,  like  the  eye,  whilst  it  makes  us  see  and  per- 
ceive all  other  things,  takes  no  notice  of  itself;  and  that  it 
requires  art  and  pains  to  set  it  at  a  distance,  and  make  it  its 
own  object.' 

"This  power  of  the  understanding  to  make  its  own  opera- 
tions its  object,  to  attend  to  them,  and  examine  them  on  all 
sides,  is  the  power  of  reflection,  by  which  alone  we  can  have 
any  distinct  notions  of  the  powers  of  our  own  or  of  other 
minds. 

"  This  reflection  ought  to  he  distinguished  from  consciousness, 
with  which  it  is  too  often  confounded,  even  by  Mr.  Locke.  All 
men  are  conscious  of  the  operations  of  their  own  minds,  at  all 
times  while  they  are  awake ;  but  there  are  few  who  reflect  upon 
them,  or  make  them  objects  of  thought." 

What  Attention  is. — Dr.  Reid  has  rightly  said  that  Attention 
is  a  voluntary  act.  This  remark  might  have  led  him  to  the 
observation,  that  Attention  is  not  a  separate  facidty,  or  a  faculty 
of  intelligence  at  all,  hut  merely  an  act  of  will  or  desire,  subor- 
dinate to  a  certain  law  of  intelligence.  This  law  is,  that  the 
greater  number  of  objects  to  which  our  consciousness  is  simul- 
taneously extended,  the  smaller  is  the  intensity  with  which  it  is 
able  to  consider  each,  and  consequently,  the  less  vivid  and  dis- 
tinct will  be  the  information  it  obtains  of  the  several  subjects. 
Tliis  law  is  expressed  in  the  old  adage, 

"  Plaribus  intentus  minor  est  ad  singula  sensus." 

Such  being  the  law,  it  follows  that,  when  our  interest  in  any 
particular  object  is  excited,  and  when  we  wish  to  obtain  all  the 
knowledge  concerning  it  in  our  power,  it  behooves  us  to  limit 
our  consideration  to  that  object,  to  the  exclusion  of  others. 
This  is  done  by  an  act  of  volition  or  desire,  which  is  called 
attention.     But  to  view  attention  as  a  special  act  of  intelligence, 


158 


ATTENTION  AND  REFLECTION. 


Eeflection.  Now  Mr.  Stewart  says,  "  Some  important  observa- 
tions on  the  subject  of  attention  occur  in  diiFerent  parts  of  Dr. 
Reid's  writings.  To  this  ingenious  author  we  are  indebted  for 
the  remark,  that  attention  to  things  external  is  properly  called 
observation  ;  and  attention  to  the  subjects  of  our  consciousness, 
reflection. 

There  is,  likewise,  another  oversight  of  Mr.  Stewart  which  I 
may  notice.  "Although,"  he  says,  "the  connection  between 
attention  and  memory  has  been  frequently  remarked  in  general 
terms,  I  do  not  recollect  that  the  power  of  attention  has  been 
mentioned  by  any  of  the  writers  on  pneumatology  in  their  enu- 
meration of  faculties  of  the  mind ;  nor  has  it  been  considered 
by  any  one,  so  far  as  I  know,  as  of  sufficient  importance  to 
deserve  a  particular  examination."  So  far  is  this  from  being 
the  case,  that  there  are  many  previous  authors  who  have  con- 
sidered attention  as  a  separate  faculty,  and  treated  of  it  even 
at  greater  length  than  Mr.  Stewart  himself.  This  is  true  not 
only  of  the  celebrated  Wolf,  but  of  the  whole  Wolfian  school ; 
and  to  these  I  may  add  Condillac,  Malebranche,  and  many 
others.     But  this  by  the  way. 

75  Attention  a  faculty  distinct  from  consciousness!  —  Taking, 
however.  Attention  lind  Reflection  for  acts  of  the  same  faculty, 
and  supposing,  with  Mr.  Stewart,  that  reflection  is  properly 
attention  directed  to  the  phsenomena  of  mind;  observation, 
attention  directed  to  the  phenomena  of  matter ;  the  main  ques- 
tion comes  to  be  considered,  Is  Attention  a  faculty  different 
from  Consciousness,  as  Reid  and  Stewart  maintain?  As  the 
latter  of  these  philosophers  has  not  argued  the  point  himself, 
but  merely  refers  to  the  arguments  of  the  former  in  continua- 
tion of  their  common  doctrine,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  adduce  the 
following  passage  from  Reid,  in  which  his  doctrine  on  this  head 
is  contained.  "  I  return,"  he  says,  "  to  what  I  mentioned  as 
the  mam  source  of  information  on  this  subject,  —  attentive  re- 
flection upon  the  operations  of  our  own  minds. 

"  All  the  notions  we  have  of  mind  and  its  operations,  are,  by 
Mr.  Locke,  called  ideas  of  reflection.  A  man  may  have  as  dis- 
tinct notions  of  remembnmce,  of  judgment,  of  will,  of  desire, 


NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


159 


as  he  has  of  any  object  whatever.  Such  notions,  as  Mr.  Locke 
justly  observes,  are  got  by  the  power  of  reflection.  But  what 
is  this  power  of  reflection  ?  '  It  is,'  says  the  same  author,  '  that 
power  by  which  the  mind  turns  its  view  inward,  and  observes 
its  own  actions  and  operations.'  He  observes  elsewhere,  '  That 
the  understanding,  hke  the  eye,  whilst  it  makes  us  see  and  per- 
ceive all  other  things,  takes  no  notice  of  itself;  and  that  it 
requires  art  and  pains  to  set  it  at  a  distance,  and  make  it  its 
own  object.* 

"This  power  of  the  understanding  to  make  its  own  opera- 
tions its  object,  to  attend  to  them,  and  examine  them  on  all 
sides,  is  the  power  of  reflection,  by  which  alone  we  can  have 
any  distinct  notions  of  the  powers  of  our  own  or  of  other 
minds. 

"  This  reflection  ought  to  he  distinguished  from  consciousness, 
with  wliich  it  is  too  often  confounded,  even  by  Mr.  Locke.  All 
men  are  conscious  of  the  operations  of  their  own  minds,  at  all 
times  while  they  are  awake ;  but  there  are  few  who  reflect  upon 
them,  or  make  them  objects  of  thought." 

What  Attention  is.  —  Dr.  Reid  has  rightly  said  that  Attention 
is  a  voluntary  act.  This  remark  might  have  led  him  to  the 
observation,  that  Attention  is  not  a  separate  faeidty,  or  a  faculty 
of  intelligence  at  all,  but  merely  an  act  of  will  or  desire,  subor- 
dinate to  a  certain  law  of  intelligence.  This  law  is,  that  the 
greater  number  of  objects  to  which  our  consciousness  is  simul- 
taneously extended,  the  smaller  is  the  intensity  with  which  it  is 
able  to  consider  each,  and  consequently,  the  less  vivid  and  dis- 
tinct will  be  the  information  it  obtains  of  the  several  subjects. 
This  law  is  expressed  in  the  old  adage, 

"Pluribiis  intentus  minor  est  ad  singula  sensus." 

Such  being  the  law,  it  follows  that,  when  our  interest  in  any 
particular  object  is  excited,  and  when  we  wish  to  obtain  all  the 
knowledge  concerning  it  in  our  power,  it  behooves  us  to  limit 
our  considei-ation  to  that  object,  to  the  exclusion  of  others. 
This  is  done  by  an  act  of  volition  or  desire,  which  is  called 
attention.     But  to  view  attention  as  a  special  act  of  intelligence, 


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NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


161 


and  to  distinguish  it  from  consciousness,  is  utterly  inept.     Con- 
sciousness may  be  compared  to  a  telescope,  attention  to  the 
pullmg  out  or  in  of  the  tubes  in  accommodating  the  focus  to 
the  object ;  and  we  might,  with  equal  justice,  distinguish  in  the 
eye  the  adjustment  of  the  pupil  from  the  general  organ  of 
vision,  as,  in  the  mind,  distinguish  attention  from  consciousness, 
as  separate  faculties.     Not,  however,  that  they  are  to  be  ac- 
counted the  same.     Attention  is  consciousness,  and  somethint^ 
more.     It  is  consciousness  voluntarily  applied,  under  its  law 
of  limitations,  to  some  determinate  object ;  it  is  consciousness 
concentrated.     In  this  respect,  attention  is  an  interesting  subject 
of  consideration ;  and  having  now  finished  what  I  proposed  in 
proof  of  the  position,  that  consciousness  is  not  a  special  faculty 
of  knowledge,  but  coextensive  with  all  our  cognitions,  I  shall 
proceed  to  consider  it  in  its  various  aspects  and  relations ;  and 
having  just  stated  the  law  of  limitation,  I  shall  go  on  to  what 
I  have  to  say  in  regard  to  attention  as  a  general  phjenomenon 
of  consciousness. 

Can  we  attend  to  more  than  one  object  at  once  ?  —  And,  here, 
I  have  first  to  consider  a  question  in  which  I  am  again  sorry  to 
find  myself  opposed  to  many  distinguished  philosophers,  and  in 
particular,  to   one  whose  opinion   on  this,  as  on  every  other 
point   of   psychological   observation,   is  justly  entitled   to  the 
highest   consideration.     The   philosopher   I   allude    to   is   Mr. 
Stewart.      The  question   is.  Can  we  attend   to  more   than  a 
single  object  at  once?     For  if  attention  be  nothing  but  the 
concentration  of  consciousness  on  a  smaller  number  of  objects 
than  constitute  its  widest  compass  of  simultaneous  knowledge, 
it  is  evident  that,  unless  this  widest  compass  of  consciousness 
be  limited  to  only  two  objects,  we  do  attend  when  we  converge 
consciousness  on  any  smaller  number  than  that  total  comple- 
ment of  objects  which  it  can  embrace  at  once.     For  example, 
if  we  suppose  that  the  number  of  objects  which  consciousness 
can  simultaneously  apprehend   be   six,  the    limitation  of  con- 
sciousness to  five,  or  four,  or  three,  or  two,  or  one,  will  all  be 
acts  of  attention,  different  in  degree,  but  absolutely  identical  in 
kind. 


Stewart's  doctrine  of  attention.  —  Mr.  Stewart's  doctrine  is 
as  follows :  —  " Before,"  he  says,  "we  leave  the  subject  of 
Attention,  it  is  proper  to  take  notice  of  a  question  which  has 
been  stated  with  resjp)ect  to  it ;  whether  we  have  the  power  of 
attending  to  more  than  one  thing  at  one  and  the  same  instant ; 
or,  in  other  words,  whether  we  can  attend,  at  one  and  the  same 
instant,  to  objects  which  we  can  attend  to  separately  ?  This 
question  has,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  been  already  decided  by 
several  philosophers  in  the  negative ;  and  I  acknowledge,  for 
my  own  part,  that  although  their  opinion  has  not  only  been 
called  in  question  by  others,  but  even  treated  with  some  degree 
of  contempt  as  altogether  hypothetical,  it  appears  to  me  to  be 
the  most  reasonable  and  philosophical  that  we  can  form  on  the 

subject. 

"  There  is,  indeed,  a  great  variety  of  cases  in  which  the 
mind  apparently  exerts  different  acts  of  attention  at  once ;  but 
from  the  instances  which  have  abeady  been  mentioned,  of  the 
astonishing  rapidity  of  thought,  it  is  obvious  that  all  this  may 
be  explained  without  supposing  those  acts  to  be  coexistent ;  and 
I  may  even  venture  to  add,  it  may  all  be  explained  in  the  most 
satisfactory  manner,  without  ascribing  to  our  intellectual  opera- 
tions a  greater  degree  of  rapidity  than  that  with  which  we 
know,  from  the  fact,  that  they  are  sometimes  carried  on.  The 
efiect  of  practice  in  increasing  this  capacity  of  apparently  at- 
tending to  different  things  at  once,  renders  this  explanation  of 
the  pha^nomenon  in  question  more  probable  than  any  other. 

"  The  case  of  the  equilibrist  and  rope-dancer  is  particularly 
favorable  to  this  explanation,  as  it  affords  direct  evidence  of  the 
possibility  of  the  mind's  exerting  different  successive  acts  in  an 
interval  of  time  so  short,  as  to  produce  the  same  sensible  eftect 
as  if  they  had  been  exerted  at  one  and  the  same  moment.  In 
this  case,  indeed,  the  rapidity  of  thought  is  so  remarkable,  that 
if  the  different  acts  of  the  mind  were  not  all  necessarily  accom- 
panied with  different  movements  of  the  eye,  there  can  be  no 
reason  for  doubting  that  the  philosophers  whose  doctrine  I  am 
now  controverting,  would  have  asserted  that  they  are  all  mathe- 
matically coexistent. 


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NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


163 


"  Upon  a  question,  however,  of  this  sort,  which  does  not  ad- 
mit of  a  perfectly  direct  appeal  to  the  fact,  I  would  by  no 
means  be  understood  to  decide  with  confidence ;  and,  therefore, 
I  should  wish  the  conclusions  I  am  now  lo  state,  to  be  received 
as  only  conditionally  established.  They  are  necessary  and 
obvious  consequences  of  the  general  principle,  *  that  the  mind 
can  only  attend  to  one  thing  at  once ; '  but  must  stand  or  fall 
with  the  truth  of  that  supposition. 

"  It  is  commonly  understood,  I  believe,  that  in  a  concert  of 
music,  a  good  ear  can  attend  to  the  diflferent  parts  of  the  music 
separately,  or  can  attend  to  them  all  at  once,  and  feel  the  full 
effect  of  the  harmony.  If  the  doctrine,  however,  which  I  have 
endeavored  to  establish  be  admitted,  it  will  follow  that,  in  the 
latter  case,  the  mind  is  constantly  varying  its  attention  from  the 
one  part  of  the  music  to  the  other,  and  that  its  operations  are 
80  rapid  as  to  give  us  no  perception  of  an  interval  of  time. 

"  The  same  doctrine  leads  to  some  curious  conclusions  with 
respect  to  vision.  Suppose  the  eye  to  be  fixed  in  a  particular 
position,  and  the  picture  of  an  object  to  be  painted  on  the 
retina.  Does  the  mind  perceive  the  complete  figure  of  the  ob- 
ject at  once,  or  is  this  perception  the  result  of  the  various  per- 
ceptions we  have  of  the  different  points  in  the  outline  ?  With 
respect  to  this  question,  the  principles  already  stated  lead  me  to 
conclude,  that  the  mind  does,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  per- 
ceive every  point  in  the  outline  of  the  object  (provided  the 
whole  of  it  be  painted  on  the  retina  at  the  same  instant)  ;  for 
perception,  Uke  consciousness,  is  an  involuntary  operation.  As 
no  two  points,  however,  of  the  outline  are  in  the  same  direction, 
every  point  by  itself  constitutes  just  as  distinct  an  object  of 
attention  to  the  mind,  as  if  it  were  separated  by  an  interval  of 
empty  space  from  all  the  rest.  If  the  doctrine,  therefore, 
formerly  stated  be  just,  it  is  impossible  for  the  mind  to  attend 
to  more  than  one  of  these  points  at  once ;  and  as  the  perception 
of  the  figure  of  the  object  implies  a  knowledge  of  the  relative 
situation  of  the  different  points  with  respect  to  each  other,  we 
must  conclude,  that  the  perception  of  figure  by  the  eye  is  the 
result  of  a  number  of  different  acts  of  attention.     These  acts 


of  attention,  however,  are  performed  with  such  rapidity,  that 
the  effect,  with  respect  to  us,  is  the  same  as  if  the  perception 
were  instantaneous. 

"In  further  confirmation  of  this  reasoning,  it  may  be  re- 
marked, that  if  the  perception  of  visible  figure  were  an  imme- 
diate consequence  of  the  picture  on  the  retina,  we  should  have, 
at  the  first  glance,  as  distinct  an  idea  of  a  figure  of  a  thousand 
sides  as  of  a  triangle  or  a  square.  The  truth  is,  that  when  the 
figure  is  very  simple,  the  process  of  the  mind  is  so  rapid  that 
the  perception  seems  to  be  instantaneous ;  but  when  the  sides 
are  multipled  beyond  a  certain  number,  the  interval  of  time 
necessary  for  these  different  acts  of  attention  becomes  percep- 
tible. 

"  It  may,  perhaps,  be  asked  what  I  mean  by  a  point  in  the 
outline  of  a  figure,  and  what  it  is  that  constitutes  this  point  one 
object  of  attention.  The  answer,  I  apprehend,  is  that  this 
point  is  the  minimum  visihile.  If  the  point  be  less,  we  cannot 
perceive  it ;  if  it  be  greater,  it  is  not  all  seen  in  one  direction. 

"  If  these  observations  be  admitted,  it  will  follow  that,  with- 
out the  facuhy  of  memory,  we  could  have  had  no  perception  of 

visible  figure." 

On  this  point.  Dr.  Brown  not  only  coincides  with  Mr.  Stewart 
in  regard  to  the  special  fact  of  attention,  but  asserts  in  general 
that  the  mind  cannot  exist  at  the  same  moment  in  two  different 
states,  that  is,  in  two  states  in  either  of  wliich  it  can  exist  sep- 
arately.    "  If  the  mind  of  man,"  he  says,  "  and  all  the  changes 
which  take  place  in  it,  from  the  first  feeling  with  which  life 
commenced  to  the  last  with  which  it  closes,  could  be  made 
visible  to  any  other  thinking  being,  a  certain  series  of  feelings 
alone,  —  that  is  to  say,  a  certain  number  of  successive  states  of 
mind,  would  be  distinguishable  in  it,  forming  indeed  a  variety 
of  sensations,  and  thoughts,  and  passions,  as  momentary  states 
of  the  mind,  but  all  of  them  existing  mdividually,  and  succes- 
sively to  each  other.     To  suppose  the  mind  to  exist  in  two 
different  states,  in  the  same  moment,  is  a  manifest  absurdity." 

Criticism    of    StewarCs    doctrine,  —  !    shall    consider    these 
statements  in  detail.     Mr.  Stewart's  first  illustration  of  his  doc- 


164 


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NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


165 


trine  is  drawn  from  a  concert  of  music,  in  which,  he  says,  "  a 
good  ear  can  attend  to  the  different  parts  of  the  music  sepa- 
rately, or  can  attend  to  them  all  at  once,  and  feel  the  full  effect 
of  the  harmony."  This  example,  how^ever,  appears  to  me  to 
amount  to  a  reduction  of  his  opinion  to  the  impossible.  What 
are  the  facts  in  this  example  ?  In  a  musical  concert,  we  have 
a  multitude  of  different  instruments  and  voices  emitting:  at  once 
an  infinity  of  different  sounds.  These  all  reach  the  ear  at  the 
same  indivisible  moment  in  which  they  perish,  and,  consequently, 
if  heard  at  all,  much  more  if  their  mutual  relation  or  harmony 
be  perceived,  they  must  be  all  heard  simultaneously.  Tliis  is 
evident.  For  if  the  mind  can  attend  to  each  minimum  of 
sound  only  successively,  it,  consequently,  requires  a  minimum 
of  time  in  which  it  is  exclusively  occupied  with  each  minimum 
of  sound.  Now,  in  this  minimum  of  time,  there  coexist  with 
it,  and  with  it  perish,  many  minima  of  sound  which,  ex  hypothesis 
are  not  perceived,  are  not  heard,  as  not  attended  to.  In  a  con- 
cert, therefore,  on  this  doctrine,  a  small  number  of  sounds  only 
could  be  perceived,  and  above  this  petty  maximum,  all  sounds 
would  be  to  the  ear  as  zero.  But  what  is  the  fact  ?  No  con- 
cert, however  numerous  its  instruments,  has  yet  been  found  to 
have  reached,  far  less  to  have  surpassed,  the  capacity  of  mind 
and  its  organ. 

But  it  is  even  more  impossible,  on  this  hypothesis,  to  under- 
stand how  we  can  perceive  the  relation  of  different  sounds,  that 
is,  have  any  feeling  of  the  harmony  of  a  concert.  In  this 
respect,  it  is,  indeed, /e?/©  de  se.  It  is  maintained  that  we  can- 
not attend  at  once  to  two  sounds,  we  cannot  perceive  them  as 
coexistent,  —  consequently,  the  feeling  of  harmony  of  which  Ave 
are  conscious,  must  proceed  from  the  feeling  of  the  relation  of 
these  sounds  as  successively  perceived  in  different  points  of 
time.  AYe  must,  therefore,  compare  the  past  sound,  as  retained 
in  memory,  with  the  present,  as  actually  perceived.  But  this 
is  impossible  on  the  hypothesis  itself.  For  we  must,  in  this 
case,  attend  to  the  past  sound  in  memory,  and  to  the  present 
sound  in  sense  at  once,  or  they  will  not  be  perceived  in  mutual 
relation  as  harmonic.     But  one  sound  in  memory  and  another 


sound  in  sense,  are  as  much  two  different  objects  as  two  dif- 
ferent sounds  in  sense.  Therefore,  one  of  two  conclusions  is 
inevitable,  — either  we  can  attend  to  two  different  objects  at 
once,  and  the  hypothesis  is  disproved,  or  we  cannot,  and  all 
knowledge  of   relation   and   harmony  is  impossible,  which  is 

absurd. 

His^llustration  from  the  phcenomena  of  vision,  —  The  conse- 
quences of  this  doctrine  are  equally  startling,  as  taken  from 
Mr.  Stewart's  second  illustration  from  the  phaenomena  of  vision. 
He  holds  that  the  perception  of  figure  by  the  eye  is  the  result 
of  a  number  of  separate  acts  of  attention,  and  that  each  act  of 
attention  has  for  its  object  a  point  the  least  that  can  be  seen, 
the  minimum  visiUle.     On  this  hypothesis,  we  must  suppose 
that,  at  every  instantaneous  opening  of  the  eyelids,  the  moment 
sufficient  for  us  to  take  in  the  figure  of  the  objects  compre- 
hended in  the  sphere  of  \4sion,  is  subdivided  into  ahnost  infin- 
itesimal parts,  in  each  of  which  a  separate  act  of  attention  is 
performed.     This  is,  of  itself,  sufficiently  inconceivable.     But 
this  being  admitted,  no  difficulty  is  removed.     The  separate 
acts  must  be  laid  up  in  memory,  in  imagination.     But  how  are 
they  there  to  form  a  single  whole,  unless  we  can,  in  imagina- 
tion, attend  to  all  the  minima  visibilia  together,  which,  in  per- 
ception, we  could  only  attend  to  severally  ?     On  this  subject  I 
shall,  however,  have  a  more  appropriate  occasion  of  speaking, 
when  I  consider  Mr.  Stewart's  doctrine  of  the  relation  of  color 

to  extension. 

Attention  possible  without  an  act  of  free-will.  —  I  think  Reid 
and  Stewart  incorrect  in  asserting  that  attention  is  only  a  vol- 
untary act,  meaning,  by  the  expression  voluntary,  an  act  of  free- 
will. I  am  far  from  maintaining,  as  Brown  and  others  do,  that 
all  will  is  desire ;  but  still  I  am  persuaded  that  we  are  fre- 
quently determined  to  an  act  of  attention,  as  to  many  other 
acts,  independently  of  our  free  and  deliberate  volition.  Nor  is 
it,  I  conceive,  possible  to  hold  that,  though  immediately  deter- 
mined to  an  act  of  attention  by  desire,  it  is  only  by  the  permis- 
sion of  our  will  that  this  is  done ;  consequently,  that  every  act 
of  attention  is  still  under  the  control  of  our  voUtion.     This  I 


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NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


167 


cannot  maintain.  Let  us  take  an  example  :  —  When  occupied 
with  other  matters,  a  person  may  speak  to  us,  or  the  clock  may 
strike,  without  our  having  any  consciousness  of  the  sound ;  but 
it  is  wholly  impossible  for  us  to  remain  in  this  state  of  un- 
consciousness intentionally  and  with  will.  We  cannot  deter- 
minately  refuse  to  hear  by  voluntarily  withholding  our  atten- 
tion ;  and  we  can  no  more  open  our  e}'es,  and,  by  an  act  of  will, 
avert  our  minds  from  all  perception  of  sight,  than  we  can,  by 
an  act  of  will,  cease  to  live.  We  may  close  our  ears  or  shut 
our  eyes,  as  we  may  commit  suicide ;  but  we  cannot,  with  our 
organs  unobstructed,  wholly  refuse  our  attention  at  will. 

Attention  of -three  degrees  or  kinds.  —  It,  therefore,  appears 
to  me  the  more  correct  doctrine  to  hold  that  there  is  no  con- 
sciousness without  attention,  —  without  concentration, — but  that 
attention  is  of  three  degrees  or  kinds.  The  first,  a  mere  vital 
and  irresistible  act ;  the  second,  an  act  determined  by  desire, 
which,  though  involuntary,  may  be  resisted  by  our  will ;  the 
third,  an  act  determined  by  a  deliberate  volition.  An  act  of 
attention,  —  that  is,  an  act  of  concentration,  —  seems  thus 
necessary  to  every  exertion  of  consciousness,  as  a  certain  con- 
traction of  the  pupil  is  requisite  to  every  exercise  of  vision. 
We  have  formerly  noticed,  that  discrimination  is  a  condition  of 
consciousness ;  and  a  discrimination  is  only  possible  by  a  con- 
centrative  act,  or  act  of  attention.  Tliis,  however,  which  cor- 
responds to  the  lowest  degree,  —  to  the  mere  vital  or  automatic 
act  of  attention,  has  been  refused  the  name ;  and  attention,  in 
contradistinction  to  this  mere  automatic  contraction,  given  to 
the  two  other  degrees,  of  which,  however,  Eeid  only  recognizes 
the  third. 

Attention,  then,  is  to  consciousness,  what  the  contraction  of 
the  pupil  is  to  sight ;  or  to  the  eye  of  the  mind,  what  the 
microscope  or  telescope  is  to  the  bodily  eye.  The  faculty  of 
attention  is  not,  therefore,  a  special  faculty,  but  merely  con- 
sciousness acting  under  the  law  of  limitation  to  which  it  is  sub- 
jected. But  whatever  be  its  relations  to  the  special  foculties, 
attention  doubles  all  their  efficiency,  and  affords  them  a  power 
of  which  they  would  otherwise  be  destitute.     It  is,  in  fact,  as 


we  are  at  present  constituted,  the  primary  condition  of  their 

I  activity. 

Brown's  doctrine  that  the  mind  cannot  exist  in  two  different 
\siates  at  once.  — I  have  now  only  to  say  a  word  in  answer  to 
Dr.  Brown's  assertion  that  the  mind  cannot  exist,  at  the  same 
moment,  in  two  different  states,  —  that  is,  in  two  states  in  either 
of  which  it  can  exist  separately ;  he  affirms  that  the  contrary 
supposition  is  a  manifest  absurdity.     I  find  the  same  doctrine 
maintained  by  Locke;  he  says:  "Different  sentiments  are  dif- 
ferent modifications  of  the  mind.     The  mind  or  the  soul  that 
perceives,  is  one  immaterial,  indivisible  substance.     Now,  I  see 
the  white  and  black  on  this  paper,  I  hear  one  singing  in  the 
next  room,  I  feel  the  warmth  of  the  fire  I  sit  by,  and  I  taste  an 
apple  I  am  eatmg,  and  all  this  at  the  same  time.     Now,  I  ask, 
take  modification  for  what  you  please,  can  the  same  unextended, 
indivisible  substance  have  different,  nay,  inconsistent  and  oppo- 
site (as  these  of  white  and  black  must  be),  modifications  at  the 
same  time  ?     Or  must  we  suppose  distinct  parts  in  an  indivisi- 
ble substance,  one  for  black,  another  for  white,  and  another  for 
red  ideas,  and  so  of  the  rest  of  those  infinite  sensations  which 
wc  have  in  sorts  and  degrees ;  all  which  we  can  distinctly  per- 
ceive, and  so  are  distinct  ideas,  some  whereof  are  opposite  as 
heat  and  cold,  which  yet  a  man  may  feel  at  the  same  time  ?  " 

Opposed  by  Leibnitz  and  Aristotle.  — In   reference  to  this 
passage,  Leibnitz  says :  "  Mr.  Locke  asks,  '  Can  the  same  unex- 
tended, indivisible   substance  have  different,  nay,  inconsistent 
and  opposite,  modifications  at  the  same  time  ? '     I  reply,  it  can. 
What  is  inconsistent  in  the  same  object,  is  not  mconsistent  in 
the  representation  of  different  objects  wliich  we  conceive  at  the 
same  moment.     For  this,  there  is  no  necessity  that  there  should 
be  different  parts  in  the  soul,  as  it  is  not  necessary  that  there 
should  be  different  parts  in  the  point  on  wliich,  however,  differ- 
ent angles  rest."     The  same  thing  had,  however,  been  even 
better  Taid  by  Aristotle,  whose  doctrine  I  prefer  translating  to 
you,  as  more  perspicuous,  in  the  following  passage  from  Joan- 
nes Grammaticus  (better  known  by  the  surname  Philoponus), 
—  a  Greek  philosopher,  who  flourished  towards  the  middle  of 


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NATURE  AND  LmiTS  OF  ATTENTION. 


NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


169 


the  sixth  centurj.     It  is  taken  from  the  Prologue  to  his  valu- 
able commentary  on  the  De  Anima  of  Aristotle ;  and,  what  is 
curious,  the  very  supposition  which,  on  Locke's  doctrine,  would 
infer  the  corporeal  nature  of  mind,  is  alleged,  by  the  Aristo- 
telians and  Condillac,  in  proof  of  its  immateriality.     "  Nothing 
bodily,"  says  Aristotle,  "  can,  at  the  same  time,  in  the  same  part, 
receive  contraries.     The  finger  cannot  at  once  be  wholly  par- 
ticipant of  white  and  of  black,  nor  can  it,  at  once  and  in  the 
same  place,  be  both  hot  and  cold.     But  the  sense  at  the  same 
moment  apprehends  contraries.     Wherefore,  it  knows  that  this 
IS  first,  and  that  second,  and  that  it  discriminates  the  black  from 
the  white.     In  what  manner,  therefore,  does  sight  sunultane- 
ously  perceive  contraries  ?      Does  it  do  so  by  the  same  ?   or 
does  it  by  one  part  apprehend  black,  by  another,  white .?     If  it 
does  so  by  the  same,  it  must  apprehend  these  without  parts,  and 
It  IS  mcorporeal.     But  if  by  one  part  it  apprehends  this  quality, 
and  by  another,  that,  ~  this,  he  says,  is  the  same  as  if  I  per- 
ceived  this,  and  you  that.     But  it  is  necessary  that  that  which 
judges  should  be  one  and  the  same,  and  that  it  should  even 
apprehend  by  the  same  the  objects  which  are  judged.     Body 
cannot,  at  the  same  moment  and  by  the  same  part,  apply  itself 
to  contraries  or  things  absolutely  different.     But  sense  at  once 
apphes  itself  to  black  and  to  white ;  it,  therefore,  appHes  itself 
mdivisibly.     It  is  thus  shown  to  be  incorporeal.     For  if  by  one 
part  it  apprehended  white,  by  another  part  apprehended  black, 
It  could  not  discern  the  one  color  from  the  other ;  for  no  one 
can  distinguish  that  which  is  perceived  by  himself  as  different 
from  that  which  is  perceived  by  another." 

Criticism  of  Brown's  doctrine,  — jyr.  Brown  caUs  the  sensa- 
tion  of  sweet  one  mental  state,  the  sensation  of  cold  another; 
aiid  as  ih^  one  of  these  states  may  exist  without  the  other, 
they  are  consequently  different  states.  But  wiU  it  be  main- 
tamed  that  we  cannot,  at  one  and  the  same  moment,  feel  the 
sensations  of  sweet  and  cold,  or  that  sensations  forming  apart 
different  states,  do,  when  coexistent  in  the  same  subject,  form 
only  a  single  state  ? 

On  this  view,  compaHson  is  impossible.  —  The  doctrine  that 


the  mind  can  attend  to,  or  be  conscious  of,  only  a  single  object 
at  a  time,  would,  in  fact,  involve  the  conclusion  that  all  com- 
parison and  discrimination  are  impossible ;  but  comparison  and 
discrimination  being  possible,  this  possibility  disproves  the  truth 
of  the  counter  proposition.  An  act  of  comparison  or  discrim- 
ination supposes  that  we  are  able  to  comprehend,  in  one  indi- 
visible consciousness,  the  different  objects  to  be  compared  or 
discriminated.  Were  I  only  conscious  of  one  object  at  one 
time,  I  could  never  possibly  bring  them  into  relation ;  each 
could  be  apprehended  only  separately,  and  for  itself.  For  in 
the  moment  in  which  I  am  conscious  of  the  object  A,  I  am,  ex 
hypothesi,  unconscious  of  the  object  B  ;  and  in  the  moment  I 
am  conscious  of  the  object  B,  I  am  unconscious  of  the  object 
A.  So  far,  in  fact,  from  consciousness  not  being  competent  to 
the  cognizance  of  two  things  at  once,  it  is  only  possible  under 
that  cognizance  as  its  condition.  For  without  discrimination 
there  could  be  no  consciousness ;  and  discrimination  necessarily 
supposes  two  terms  to  be  discriminated. 

No  judgment  could  be  possible  were  not  the  subject  and 
predicate  of  a  proposition  thought  together  by  the  mind,  al- 
though expressed  in  language  one  after  the  other.  Nay,  as 
Aristotle  has  observed,  a  syllogism  forms,  in  thought,  one  simul- 
taneous act ;  and  it  is  only  the  necessity  of  retailing  it  piece- 
meal and  by  succession,  in  order  to  accommodate  thought  to 
the  imperfection  of  its  vehicle,  language,  that  affords  the 
appearance  of  a  consecutive  existence.  Some  languages,  as 
the  Sanscrit,  the  Latin,  and  the  Greek,  express  the  syntactical 
relations  by  flexion,  and  not  by  mere  juxtaposition.  Their 
sentences  are  thus  bound  up  in  one  organic  whole,  the  preced- 
ing parts  remaining  suspended  in  the  mind,  till  the  meaning, 
like  an  electric  spark,  is  flashed  from  the  conclusion  to  the  com- 
mencement. This  is  tlie  reason  of  the  greater  rhetorical  effect 
of  terminating  the  Latin  period  by  the  verb.  And  to  take  a 
more  elementary  example,  —  "How  could  the  mind  compre- 
hend these  words  of  Horace, 

*  Bacchum  in  remotis  carmina  rupibus 
Vidi  docentem/ 
16 


170 


NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


171 


unless  it  could  seize  at  once  those  images  in  which  the  adjec- 
tives are  separated  from  their  substantives  ?  " 

How  many  objects  can  the  mind  embrace  at  once  ?  —  Suppos- 
ing that  the  mind  is  not  limited  to  the  simultaneous  considera- 
tion of  a  single  object,  a  question  arises,  How  many  objects  can 
it  embrace  at  once  ?  You  will  recollect  that  I  formerly  stated, 
that  the  greater  the  number  of  objects  among  which  the  atten- 
tion of  the  mind  is  distributed,  the  feebler  and  less  distinct  will 
be  its  cognizance  of  each. 

Consciousness  will  thus  be  at  its  maximum  of  intensity  when 
attention  is  concentrated  on  a  single  object ;  and  the  question 
comes  to  be,  how  many  several  objects  can  the  mind  simultane- 
ously survey,  not  with  vivacity,  but  without  absolute  confusion  ? 
I  find  this  problem  stated  and  differently  answered,  by  different 
philosophers,  and  apparently  without  a  knowledge  of  each 
other.  By  Charles  Bonnet,  the  mind  is  allowed  to  have  a  dis- 
tinct notion  of  six  objects  at  once ;  by  Abraham  Tucker,  the 
number  is  limited  to  four ;  while  Destutt-Tracy  again  amphfies 
it  to  six.  The  opinion  of  the  first  and  last  of  these  philoso- 
phers jjppears  to  me  correct.  You  can  easily  make  the  experi- 
ment for  yourselves,  but  you  must  beware  of  gi'ouping  the 
objects  into  classes.  If  you  throw  a  handful  of  marbles  on  the 
floor,  you  will  find  it  difRcult  to  view  at  once  more  than  six,  or 
seven  at  most,  without  confusion ;  but  if  you  group  them  into 
twos,  or  threes,  or  fives,  you  can  comprehend  as  many  groups 
as  you  can  units ;  because  the  mind  considers  these  groups  only 
as  units  ;  —  it  views  them  as  wholes,  and  throws  their  parts  out 
of  consideration.  You  may  perform  the  experiment  also  by  an 
act  of  imajiination. 

Value  of  attention  considered  as  an  act  of  will.  —  Before 
leaving  this  subject,  I  shall  make  some  observations  on  the 
value  of  attention,  considered  in  its  highest  degree  as  an  act  of 
will,  and  on  the  importance  of  forming  betimes  the  habit  of 
deliberate  concentration. 

The  greater  capacity  of  continuous  thinking  that  a  man  pos- 
sesses, the  longer  and  more  steadily  can  he  follow  out  the  same 
train  of  thought,  —  the  stronger  is  his  power  of  attention ;  and 


in  proportion  to  his  power  of  attention  will  be  the  success  with 
which  his  labor  is  rewarded.  All  commencement  is  difficult ; 
and  this  is  more  especially  true  of  intellectual  effort.  When 
we  turn  for  the  first  time  our  view  on  any  given  object,  a  hun- 
dred other  things  still  retam  possession  of  our  thoughts.  Even 
when  we  are  able,  by  an  arduous  exertion,  to  break  loose  from 
the  matters  which  have  previously  engrossed  us,  or  which  every 
moment  force  themselves  on  our  consideration,  —  even  when  a 
resolute  determination,  or  the  attraction  of  the  new  object,  has 
smoothed  the  way  on  which  we  are  to  travel ;  still  the  mind  is 
continually  perplexed  by  the  glimmer  of  intrusive  and  distract- 
ing thoughts,  which  prevent  it  from  placing  that  which  should 
exclusively  occupy  its  view,  in  the  full  clearness  of  an  undi- 
vided fight.  How  great  soever  may  be  the  interest  which  we 
take  in  the  new  object,  it  will,  however,  only  be  fully  estabUshed 
as  a  favorite,  when  it  has  been  fused  into  an  integral  part  of  the 
system  of  our  previous  knowledge,  and  of  our  estabfished  asso- 
ciations of  thoughts,  feelings,  and  desires.  But  this  can  only 
be  accomplished  by  time  and  custom.  Our  imagination  and 
our  memory,  to  which  we  must  resort  for  materials  with  which 
to  illustrate  and  enliven  our  new  study,  accord  us  their  aid  un- 
wiUingly,  —  indeed,  only  by  compulsion.  But  if  we  are  vigor- 
ous enough  to  pursue  our  course  in  spite  of  obstacles,  every 
step,  as  we  advance,  will  be  found  easier ;  the  mind  becomes 
more  animated  and  energetic ;  the  distractions  gradually  dimin- 
ish; the  attention  is  more  exclusively  concentrated  upon  its 
object ;  the  kindred  ideas  flo^  with  greater  freedom  and  abun- 
dance, and  afford  an  easier  selection  of  what  is  suitable  for  illus- 
tration. At  length,  our  system  of  thought  harmonizes  with  our 
pursuit.  The  whole  man,  becomes,  as  it  may  be,  philosopher, 
or  historian,  or  poet;  he  fives  only  in  the  trains  of  thought 
relating  to  this  character.  He  now  energizes  freely,  and,  con- 
sequently, with  pleasure ;  for  pleasure  is  the  reflex  of  unforced 
and  unimpeded  energy.  AU  that  is  produced  in  this  state  of 
mind,  bears  the  stamp  of  excellence  and  perfection. 

Helvetius  justly  observes,  that  the  very  feeblest  intellect  is 
capable  of  comprehending  the  inference  of  one  mathematical 


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NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


NATURE  AND  LIMITS  OF  ATTENTION. 


173 


position  from  another,  and  even  of  making  such  an  inference 
itself.     Now,  the  most  difficult  and  complicate  demonstrations 
in  the  works  of  a  Newton  or  a  Laplace,  are  all  made  up  of 
such  immediate  inferences.     They  are  like  houses  composed  of 
single  bricks.     No  greater  exertion  of  intellect  is  required  to 
make  a  thousand  such  inferences  than  is  requisite  to  make  one ; 
as  the  effort  of  laying  a  single  brick  is  the  maximum  of  any 
individual  effort  in  the  construction  of  such  a  house.     Thus, 
the  difference  between  an  ordinary  mind  and  the  mind  of  a 
Newton  consists  principally  in  this,  that  the  one  is  capable  of 
the  application  of  a  more  continuous  attention  than  the  other, — 
that  a  Newton  is  able  without  fatigue  to  connect  inference  with 
inference  in  one  long  series  towards  a  determinate  ^nd ;  while 
the  man  of  inferior  capacity  is  soon  obliged  to  break  or  let  fall 
the  thread  which  he  had  begun  to  spin.     This  is,  in  fact,  what 
Sir  Isaac,  with  equal  modesty  and  shrcAvdness,  himself  admit- 
ted.    To  one  who  complimented  him  on  his  genius,  he  replied 
that  if  he  had  made   any  discoveries,  it  was  owing  more  to 
patient  attention  than  to  any  other  talent.     There  is  but  little 
analogy  between  mathematics  and  play-acting ;  but  I  heard  the 
great  Mrs.  Siddons,  in  nearly  the  same  language,  attribute  the 
wliole  superiority  of  her  unrivalled  talent  to  the  more  intense 
study  which  she  bestowed  upon  her  parts. 

If  what  Alcibiades,  in  the  Symposium  of  Plato,  narrates  of 
Socrates  were  true,  the  father  of  Greek  philosophy  must  have 
possessed  this  faculty  of  meditation  or  continuous  attention  in 
the  highest  degree.  The  story,  indeed,  has  some  appearance 
of  exaggeration ;  but  it  shows  what  Alcibiades,  or  rather  Plato 
through  him,  deemed  the  requisite  of  a  great  thinker.  Accord- 
ing to  this  report,  in  a  military  expedition  which  Socrates  made 
along  with  Alcibiades,  the  philosopher  was  seen  by  the  Athe- 
nian army  to  stand  for  a  whole  day  and  a  night,  until  the  break- 
ing of  the  second  morning,  motionless,  with  a  fixed  gaze, — 
thus  showing  that  he  was  uninterruptedly  engrossed  with  the 
consideration  of  a  single  subject :  "  And  thus,"  says  Alcibiades, 
"  Socrates  is  ever  wont  to  do,  when  his  mind  is  occupied  with 
inquiries  in  which  there  are  difficulties  to  be  overcome.     He 


then  never  interrupts  his  meditation,  and  forgets  to  eat,  and 
drink,  and  sleep,  —  everything,  in  short,  until  his  inquiry  has 
reached  its  termination,  or,  at  least,  until  he  has  seen  some 
liorht  in  it."  In  this  history,  there  may  be,  as  I  have  said,  ex- 
at'geration ;  but  still  the  truth  of  the  principle  is  undeniable. 
Like  Newton,  Descartes  arrogated  nothing  to  the  force  of  his 
intellect.  What  he  had  accomplished  more  than  other  men, 
that  he  attributed  to  the  superiority  of  his  method ;  and  Bacon, 
in  like  manner,  eulogizes  his  method,  —  in  that  it  places  all 
men  with  equal  attention  upon  a  level,  and  leaves  little  or  noth- 
ing to  the  prerogatives  of  genius.  Nay,  genius  itself  has  been 
analyzed  by  the  shrewdest  observers  into  a  higher  capacity  of 
attention.  "  Genius,"  says  Helvetius,  whom  we  have  already 
quoted,  "  is  nothing  but  a  continued  attention "  (une  attention 
suivie). 

These  examples  and  authorities  concur  in  establishing  the 
important  truth,  that  he  who  would,  with  success,  attempt  dis- 
covery, either   by  inquiry  into   the  works   of  nature,  or  by 
meditation  on  the  phsenomena  of  mind,  must  acquire  the  facility 
of  abstracting  himself,  for  a  season,  from  the  invasion  of  sur- 
rounding objects ;  must  be  able  even,  in  a  certain  degree,  to 
emancipate  himself  from  the  dominion  of  the  body,  and  live,  as\ 
it  were,  a  pure  intelligence,  within  the  circle  of  his  thoughts.  | 
Tliis  faculty  has  been  manifested,  more  or  less,  by  all  whose 
names  are  associated  with  the  progress  of  the  intellectual  sci- 
ences.     In    some,   indeed,   the   power   of    abstraction   almost 
degenerated   into   a  habit  akin  to  disease,  and  the   examples 
which  now  occur  to  me  would  ialmost  induce  me  to  retract 
what  I  have  said  about  the  exaggeration  of  Plato's  history  of 
Socrates.     Archimedes,  it  is  well  known,  was  so  absorbed  in  a 
geometrical  meditation,  that  he  was  first  aware  of  the  storming 
of  Syracuse  by  his  own  death-wound,  and  his  exclamation  on  A  j 
the  entrance   of  Roman  soldiers  was,  —  Noli  turhare  circulosj  /\ 
meos.     In  like  manner,  Joseph  Scaliger,  the  most  learned  of//  I 
men,  when  a  Protestant  student  in  Paris,  was  so  engrossed  in/  / 

the  study  of  Homer,  that  he  became  aware  of  the  massacre  off  / 

15*  V 


174 


NATURE  AND  LIMITS   OF  ATTENTION. 


/ 


St.  Bartholomew,  and  of  his  own  escape,  only  on  the  day  sub- 
sequent to  the  catastrophe. 

I  have  dwelt  at  greater  length  upon  the  practical  bearings  of 
Attention,  not  only  because  this  principle  constitutes  the  better 
half  of  all  intellectual  power,  but  because  it  is  of  consequence 
that  you  should  be  fully  aware  of  the  incalculable  importance 
of  acquiring,  by  early  and  continued  exercise,  the  habit  of 
attention.  There  are,  however,  many  points  of  great  moment 
on  which  I  have  not  touched,  and  the  dependence  of  Memory 
upon  Attention  might  alone  form  an  interesting  matter  of  dis- 
cussion. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  — ITS   EVIDENCE  AND  AUTHORITY. 

Having  now  concluded  the  discussion  in  regard  to  what 
Consciousness  is,  and  shown  you  that  it  constitutes  the  funda- 
mental form  of  every  act  of  knowledge ;  —  I  now  proceed  to 
consider  it  as  the  source  from  whence  we  must  derive  every 
fact  in  the  Philosophy  of  Mind.  And,  in  prosecution  of  this 
purpose,  I  shall,  in  the  first  place,  endeavor  to  show  that  it 
really  is  the  principal,  if  not  the  only  source,  from  which  all 
knowledge  of  the  mental  pha3nomena  must  be  obtained ;  in  the 
second  place,  I  shall  consider  the  character  of  its  evidence, 
and  what,  under  different  relations,  are  the  different  degrees  of 
its  authority ;  and,  in  the  last  place,  I  shall  state  what,  and  of 
what  nature,  are  the  more  general  phaenomena  which  it  reveals. 
Having  terminated  these,  I  shall  then  descend  to  the  considera- 
tion  of  the  special  faculties  of  knowledge,  that  is,  to  the  par- 
ticular modifications  of  which  consciousness  is  susceptible. 

Philosophy  implies  the  veracity  of  consciousness.  —  We  pro- 
ceed to  consider,  in  the  first  place,  the  authority,  —  the  cer- 
tainty, of  this  instrument.  Now,  it  is  at  once  evident,  that 
philosophy,  as  it  affirms  its  own  possibihty,  must  affirm  the 
veracity  of  consciousness ;  for,  as  philosophy  is  only  a  scientific 
development  of  the  facts  which  consciousness  reveals,  it  follows, 
that  philosophy,  in  denymg  or  doubting  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness, would  deny  or  doubt  its  own  existence.  If,  there- 
fore, philosophy  be  not  felo  de  se,  it  must  not  invalidate  the 
integrity  of  that  which  is,  as  it  were,  the  heart,  the  punctwn 
saliens,  of  its  being ;  and  as  it  would  actively  maintain  its  own 
credit,  it  must  be  able  positively  to  vindicate  the  truth  of  con- 

(175) 


176 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


177 


Bciousness.  Leibnitz  truly  says,  —  "  If  our  immediate  internal 
experience  could  possibly  deceive  uS,  there  could  no  longer  be 
for  us  any  truth  of  fact,  nay,  nor  any  truth  of  reason." 

So  far  there  is,  and  can  be,  no  dispute ;  if  philosophy  is  pos- 
sible, the  evidence  of  consciousness  is  authentic.  No  philoso- 
pher denies  its  authority,  and  even  the  Sceptic  can  only  attempt 
to  show,  on  the  hypothesis  of  the  Dogmatist,  that  consciousness, 
as  at  variance  with  itself,  is,  therefore,  on  that  hypothesis,  men- 
dacious. 

But  if  the  testimony  of  consciousness  be  in  itself  confessedly 
above  all  suspicion,  it  follows,  that  we  inquire  into  the  condi- 
tions or  laws  which  regulate  the  legitimacy  of  its  applications. 
The  conscious  mind  being  at  once  the  source  from  which  we 
must  derive  our  knowledge  of  its  phaenomena,  and  the  mean 
through  which  that  knowledge  is  obtained.  Psychology  is  only 
an  evolution,  by  consciousness,  of  the  facts  which  consciousness 
itself  reveals.  As  every  system  of  Mental  Philosophy  is  thus 
only  an  exposition  of  these  facts,  every  such  system,  conse- 
quently, is  true  and  complete,  as  it  fairly  and  fully  exhibits 
what,  and  what  only,  consciousness  exhibits. 

Consciousness  naturally  clear  and  unerring.  —  But  it  may  be 

objected,  —  if  consciousness  be  the  only  revelation  we  possess 

of  our  intellectual  nature,  and  if  consciousness  be  also  the  sole 

criterion  by  which  we  can  interpret  the  meaning  of  what  this 

revelation  contains,  this  revelation  must  be  very  obscure, — 

this  criterion  must  be  very  uncertain,  seeing  that  the  various 

systems  of  philosophy  all  equally  appeal  to  this  revelation  and 

to  this  criterion,  in  support  of  the  most  contradictory  opinions. 

As  to  the  fact  of  the  variety  and  contradiction  of  philosophical 

systems,  —  this  cannot  be  denied ;  and  it  is  also  true  that  all 

these  systems  either  openly  profess  allegiance  to  consciousness, 

or  silently  confess  its  authority.     But  admitting  all  tliis,  I  am 

still  bold  enough  to  maintain,  that  consciousness  affords  not 

merely  the  only  revelation,  and  only  criterion  of  philosophy, 

but  that  this  revelation  is  naturally  clear,  —  this  criterion,  in 

itself,  unerring.     The  history  of  philosophy,  like  the  history  of 

theology,  is  only,  it  is  too  true,  the  history  of  variations ;  and 


we  must  admit  of  the  book  of  consciousness  what  a  great  Cal- 
vinist  divine  bitterly  confessed  of  the  book  of  Scripture,  — 

"  Hie  liber  est  in  quo  quaerit  sua  dogmata  quisquo ; 
Invenit  et  pariter  dogmata  quisque  sua." 

Cause  of  variation  in  philosophy.  —  In  regard,  however,  to 
either  revelation,  it  can  be  shown  that  the  source  of  this  diver- 
sity is  not  in  the  book,  but  in  the  reader.  K  men  will  go  to  the 
Bible,  not  to  ask  of  it  what  they  shall  believe,  but  to  find  in  it 
wliat  they  believe  already,  the  standard  of  unity  and  truth  be- 
comes in  human  hands  only  a  Lesbian  rule.*  And  if  philoso- 
phers, in  place  of  evolving  their  doctrines  out  of  consciousness, 
resort  to  consciousness  only  when  they  are  able  to  quote  its* 
authority  in  confirmation  of  their  preconceived  opinions,  phi- 
losophical systems,  like  the  sandals  of  Theramenes,t  may  fit 
any  feet,  but  can  never  pretend  to  represent  the  immutabihty 
of  nature.  And  that  pliilosophers  have  been,  for  the  most  part, 
guilty  of  this,  it  is  not  extremely  difficult  to  show.  They  have, 
seldom  or  never  taken  the  facts  of  consciousness,  the  whole 
facts  of  consciousness,  and  nothing  but  the  facts  of  conscious- 
ness. They  have  either  overlooked,  or  rejected,  or  interpo- 
lated. 

Before  we  are  entitled  to  accuse  consciousness  of  beinj?  a 
false,  or  vacillating,  or  ill-informed  witness,  —  we  are  bound, 
first  of  all,  to  see  whether  there  be  any  rules  by  which,  in  em- 
ploying the  testimony  of  consciousness,  we  must  be  governed ; 
and  whether  pliilosophers  have  evolved  their  systems  out  of 
consciousness  in  obedience  to  these  rules.      For  if   there  be 

*  [A  Lesbian  (carpenter's)  rule  or  level,  being  made  of  lead,  did  not 
measure  correctly  the  inequalities  of  the  surface  to  which  it  was  applied, 
but  bent  under  its  own  weight  so  as  to  adapt  itself  to  those  inequalities, 
instead  of  gauging  their  amount.  See  Aristotle,  Eth.  Nic.  v.  10,  7.]  — 
Am.  Ed. 

t  [As  Theramenes  readily  attached  himself  to  any  party  that  happened 
to  be  uppermost,  he  was  nicknamed  b  Kodopvog,  the  name  for  a  sort  of  san- 
dal, which,  unlike  those  made  as  rights  and  lefts,  would  fit  equally  well 
cithcrfoot.]  — ylw.  ^c/. 


178 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


179 


rules  under  which  alone  the  evidence  of  consciousness  can  be 
fairly  and  fully  given,  and,  consequently,  under  which  alone 
consciousness  can  serve  as  an  infallible  standard  of  certainty 
and  truth,  and  if  philosophers  have  despised  or  neglected  these, 
—  then  must  we  remove  the  reproach  from  the  instrument,  and 
affix  it  to  those  blundering  workmen  who  have  not  known  how 
to  handle  and  apply  it.     In  attempting  to  vindicate  the  veracity 
and  perspicuity  of  this,  the  natural,  revelation  of  our  mental 
being,  I  shall,  therefore,  first,  endeavor  to  enumerate  and  ex- 
plain the  general  rules  by  which  we  must  be  governed  in  apply- 
ing consciousness  as  a  mean  of  internal  observation,  and  there- 
after show  how  the  variations  and  contradictions  of  philosophy 
have  all  arisen  from  the  violation  of  one  or  more  of  these  laws. 
Three  rules  for  applying  the  testimony  of  consciousness.  — 
There  are,  in  all,  if  I  generalize  correctly,  three  laws  wliich 
afford  the   exclusive    conditions   of    psychological  legitimacy. 
These  laws,  or  regulative  conditions,  are  self-evident,  and  yet 
they  seem  never  to  have  been  clearly  proposed  to  themselves 
by  philosophers;  — in  philosophical  speculation,  they  have  cer- 
tainly  never  been  adequately  obeyed. 

The  First  of  these  rules  is,  —  That  no  fact  be  assumed  as  a 
fact  of  consciousness  but  what  is  ulthnate  and  simple.  This  I 
would  call  the  law  of  Parcimony. 

The  Second,  —  that  which  I  would  style  the  law  of  Integrity, 
is  — That  the  whole  facts  of  consciousness  be  taken  without 
reserve  or  hesitation,  whether  given  as  constituent,  or  as  regu- 
lative data. 

The  Third  is,  —  That  nothing  but  the  facts  of  consciousness 
be  taken,  or,  if  inferences  of  reasoning  be  admitted,  that  these 
at  least  be  recognized  as  legitimate  only  as  deduced  from,  and 
in  subordination  to,  the  immediate  data  of  consciousness,  and 
every  position  rejected  as  illegitimate,  which  is  contradictory  of 
these.  This  I  would  call  the  law  of  Harmony. 
I  shall  consider  these  in  their  order. 

I.  The  first  law,  that  of  Parcimony,  is,  —  That  no  fact  be 
assumed  as  a  fact  of  consciousness  but  what  is  ultimate  and 
simple.     What  is  a  fact  of  consciousness  ?     This  question,  of 


all  others,  requires  a  precise  and  articulate  answer ;  but  I  have 
not  found  it  adequately  answered  in  any  psychological  author. 

Every  fact  of  consciousness  —  1.  Primary  and  universal. — 
In  the  first  place,  —  every  mental  phsenomenon  may  be  called  a 
fact  of  consciousness.  But  as  we  distinguish  consciousness 
from  the  special  faculties,  though  these  are  all  only  modifica- 
tions of  consciousness,  —  only  branches  of  which  consciousness 
is  the  trunk,  so  we  distinguish  the  special  and  derivative  phas- 
nomena  of  mind  from  those  that  are  primary  and  universal, 
and  give  to  the  latter  the  name  of  facts  of  consciousness,  as 
more  eminently  worthy  of  that  appellation.  In  an  act  of  Per- 
ception, for  example,  I  distinguish  the  pen  I  hold  in  my  hand, 
and  my  hand  itself,  from  my  mind  perceiving  them.  This  dis- 
tinction is  a  particular  fact,  —  the  fact  of  a  particular  faculty. 
Perception.  But  there  is  a  general  fact,  a  general  distinction, 
of  which  this  is  only  a  special  case.  This  general  fact  is  the 
distinction  of  the  Ego  and  non-Ego,  and  it  belongs  to  conscious- 
ness as  the  general  faculty.  Whenever,  therefore,  in  our  anal- 
ysis of  the  intellectual  phtenomena,  we  arrive  at  an  element 
which  we  cannot  reduce  to  a  generalization  from  experience, 
but  which  lies  at  the  root  of  all  experience,  and  which  we  can- 
not, therefore,  resolve  into  any  higher  principle,  —  this  we 
properly  call  a  fact  of  consciousness.  Looking  to  such  a  fact 
of  consciousness  as  the  last  result  of  an  analysis,  we  call  it  an 
ultimate  principle ;  looking  from  it  as  the  first  constituent  of  all 
intellectual  combination,  we  call  it  a  primary  principle.  A  fact 
of  consciousness  is,  thus,  a  simple,  and,  as  we  regard  it,  either 
an  ultimate  or  a  primary,  datum  of  intelligence.  It  obtains 
also  various  denominations ;  sometimes  it  is  called  an  a  priori 
principle,  sometimes  a  fundamental  law  of  mind,  sometimes  a 
transcendental  condition  of  thought,  etc. 

2.  Necessary.  —  But,  in  the  second  place,  this,  its  character 
of  ultimate  priority  supposes  its  character  of  necessity.  It 
must  be  impossible  not  to  think  it.  In  fact,  by  its  necessity 
alone  can  we  recognize  it  as  an  original  datum  of  inteUigence, 
and  distinguish  it  from  any  mere  result  of  generalization  and 
custom. 


180 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


181 


3.  Incomprehensihle.  —  In  the  third  place,  this  fact,  as  ulti- 
mate, is  also  given  to  us  with  a  mere  belief  of  its  reality ;  in 
other  words,  consciousness  reveals  that  it  is,  but  not  why  or  how 
it  is.  This  is  evident.  Were  this  fact  given  us,  not  only  with 
a  belief,  but  with  a  knowledge  of  how  or  why  it  is,  in  that  case 
it  would  be  a  derivative,  and  not  a  primary,  datum.  For  that 
whereby  we  were  thus  enabled  to  comprehend  its  hoiv  and  why, 
—  in  other  words,  the  reason  of  its  existence,  —  this  w^ould  be 
relatively  prior,  and  to  it  or  to  its  antecedent  must  we  ascend, 
until  we  arrive  at  that  primary  fact,  in  which  we  must  at  last 
believe,  —  which  we  must  take  upon  trust,  but  which  we  could 
not  comprehend,  that  is,  think  under  a  higher  notion.* 

*  Elsewhere,  in  the  "  Dissertations  Supplementary  to  Reid,"  the  author 
gives  a  somewhat  difterent,  and  more  clearly  explicated,  enumeration  of 
["  the  essential  notes  and  characters  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  distinguish 
our  original  from  our  derivative  convictions.  These  characters,  I  think, 
may  be  reduced  to  four;  —  1°,  their  IncomprehensihiUty  —  2°,  their  Simplic- 
ity—  3°,  their  Necessity  and  absolute  Universality  —  4°,  their  comparative 
Evidence  and  Cei-tainty. 

"1.  In  reference  to  the  first ;  —  A  conviction  is  incomprehensible  when 
there  is  merely  given  us  in  consciousness  —  That  its  object  is  {on  eari) ;  and 
when  wc  are  unable  to  comprehend  through. a  higher  notion  or  belief.  Why 
or  How  it  is  {dton  kaiL).  When  we  are  able  to  comprehend  why  or  how 
a  thing  is,  the  belief  of  the  existence  of  that  thing  is  not  a  primaiy  datura 
of  consciousness,  but  a  subsumption  under  the  cognition  or  belief  which 
affords  its  reason. 

"2.  As  to  the  second;  — It  is  manifest  that  if  a  cognition  or  belief  be 
made  up  of,  and  can  be  explicated  into,  a  plurality  of  cognitions  or  beliefs, 
that,  as  compound,  it  cannot  be  original. 

"3.  Touching  the  third;  —  Necessity  and  Universality  may  be  regarded 
as  coincident.  For  when  a  belief  is  necessary,  it  is,  eo  ipso,  universal ;  and 
that  a  belief  is  universal,  is  a  certain  index  that  it  must  be  necessary.  To 
prove  the  necessity,  tlie  universality  must,  however,  be  absolute  ;  for  a  rel- 
ative universality  indicates  no  more  than  custom  and  education,  howbeit 
the  subjects  themselves  may  deem  that  they  follow  only  the  dii^tates  of 
nature.  As  St.  Jerome  has  it  — '  Unaquiequc  gens  hoc  legem  naturaj  pu- 
tat,  quod  didicit.' 

"  4.  The  fourth  and  last  character  of  our  original  beliefs  is  their  compara- 
tive Evidence  and  Certainty.  This,  along  with  the  third,  is  well  stated  by 
Aristotle.  — '  What  appears  to  all,  that  we  affirm  to  be ;  and  he  who  rejects 
this  belief  will  assuredly  advance  nothimj  better  dcserviny  of  credence.'    And 


A  fact  of  consciousness  is  thus,  —  that  whose  existence  is 
given  and  guaranteed  by  an  original  and  necessary  belief.  But 
there  is  an  important  distinction  to  be  here  made,  which  has  not 
only  been  overlooked  by  all  philosophers,  but  has  led  some  of 
the  most  distinguished  into  no  inconsiderable  errors. 

The  facts  of  consciousness  considered  in  two  points  of  view.  — 
The  facts  of  consciousness  are  to  be  considered  in  two  points 
of  view ;  either  as  evidencing  their  own  ideal  or  phasnomenal 
existence,  or  as  evidencing  the  objective  existence  of  something 
else  beyond  them.  A  beHef  in  the  former  is  not  identical  with 
a  behef  in  the  latter.  The  one  cannot,  the  other  may  possibly, 
be  refused.  In  the  case  of  a  common  witness,  we  cannot  doubt 
the  fact  of  his  personal  reality,  nor  the  fact  of  his  testimony  as 
emitted ;  —  but  we  can  always  doubt  the  truth  of  that  which  his 
testimony  avers.  So  it  is  with  consciousness.  We  cannot  pos- 
sibly refuse  the  fact  of  its  evidence  as  given,  but  we  may  hesi- 
tate to  admit  that  beyond  itself  of  wliich  it  assures  us.  I  shall 
explain  by  taking  an  example.  In  the  act  of  External  Per- 
ception, consciousness  gives,  as  a  conjunct  fact,  the  existence  of 
Me  or  Self  as  perceiving,  and  the  existence  of  somethuig 
different  from  Me  or   Self  as  perceived.     Now  the  reality  of 

again :  —  *  K  Ave  know  and  believe  through  certain  original  principles,  we 
must  know  and  believe  these  with  paramount  certainty,  for  the  very  reason 
that  we  know  and  believe  all  else  through  them.'  And  such  are  the  truths 
in  regard  to  which  the  Aphrodisian  says,  — '  though  some  men  may  ver- 
bally dissent,  all  men  are  in  their  hearts  agreed.'  This  constitutes  the  first 
of  Buffier's  essential  qualities  of  primary  truths,  which  is,  as  he  expresses 
it,  —  *  to  be  so  clear,  that  if  we  attempt  to  prove  or  to  disprove  them,  this 
Ciiu  be  done  only  by  propositions  which  are  manifestly  neither  more  evident 
nor  more  certain,' 

"A  good  illustration  of  this  character  is  afforded  by  the  assurance  — to 
which  we  have  already  so  frequently  referred  —  that  in  perception,  mind  is 
immediately  cognizant  of  matter.  How  self  can  be  conscious  of  not-self, 
how  mind  can  be  cognizant  of  matter,  we  do  not  know ;  but  we  know  as 
little  k)w  mind  can  be  percipient  of  itself.  In  both  cases,  we  only  know  the 
fact,  on  the  authority  of  consciousness ;  and  when  the  conditions  of  the 
problem  are  rightly  understood  —  when  it  is  established  that  it  is  only  the 
primary  qualities  of  body  which  are  apprehended  in  themselves,  and  this 
only  in  so  far  as  they  are  in  immediate  relation  to  the  organ  of  sense,  the 
difficulty  in  the  one  case  is  not  more  than  in  the  other."] 

16 


182 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


this,  as  a  subjective  datum,  —  as  an  ideal  phoenomenon,  it  is 
impossible  to  doubt  without  doubting  the  existence  of  conscious- 
ness, for  consciousness  is  itself  this  fact;  and  to  doubt  the 
existence  of  consciousness  is  absolutely  impossible  ;  for  as  such 
a  doubt  could  not  exist,  except  in  and  through  consciousness,  it 
would,  consequently,  annihilate  itself.  We  should  doubt  that 
we  doubted.  As  contained,  —  as  given,  in  an  act  of  conscious- 
ness, the  contrast  of  mmd  knowing  and  matter  known  cannot 
be  denied. 

But  the  whole  phienomenon  as  given  in  consciousness  may 
be  admitted,  and  yet  its  inference  disputed.  It  may  be  said, 
consciousness  gives  the  mental  subject  as  perceiving  an  exter- 
nal object,  contradistinguished  from  it  as  perceived ;  all  this  we 
do  not,  and  cannot,  deny.  But  consciousness  is  only  a  phae- 
nomenon ;  the  contrast  between  the  subject  and  object  may  be 
only  apparent,  not  real ;  the  object  given  as  an  external  reality 
miiy  only  be  a  mental  representation,  which  the  mind  is,  by  an 
unknown  law,  determined  unconsciously  to  produce,  and  to  mis- 
take for  something  different  from  itself.  All  this  may  be  said 
and  believed,  without  self-contradiction  ;  —  nay,  all  this  has,  by 
the  immense  majority  of  modern  philosophers,  been  actually 
said  and  believed.* 

*  This  distinction  is,  perhaps,  more  distinctly  stated  and  illustrated  by  the 
author  in  the  "  notes  to  Reid."  ["  There  is  no  scepticism  possible  touching 
the  facts  of  consciousness  in  themselves.  We  cannot  doubt  that  the  phae- 
nomena  of  consciousness  are  real,  in  so  far  as  we  are  conscious  of  them.  I 
cannot  doubt,  for  example,  that  I  am  actually  conscious  of  a  certain  feeling 
of  fragrance,  and  of  certain  perceptions  of  color,  figure,  etc.,  when  I  see  and 
smell  a  rose.  Of  the  reality  of  these,  as  experienced,  I  cannot  doubt,  be- 
cause they  are  facts  of  consciousness ;  and  of  consciousness  I  cannot 
doubt,  because  such  doubt  being  itself  an  act  of  consciousness,  would  con- 
tradict, and,  consequently,  annihilate  itself.  But  of  all  beyond  the  mere 
pluenomena  of  which  we  are  conscious,  we  may  —  without  fear  of  self-con- 
tradiction, at  least  —  doubt,  I  may,  for  instance,  doubt  whether  the  rose  I 
see  and  smell  has  any  existence  beyond  a  phenomenal  existence  in  my 
consciousness.  I  cannot  doubt  that  I  am  conscious  of  it  as  something  dif- 
ferent from  self;  but  whether  it  have  indeed  any  reality  beyond  my  mind 
—  wliether  the  not-self  be  not  in  truth  only  self —  that  I  may  philosophi- 
cally question.     In  like  manner,  I  am  conscious  of  the  memory  of  a  cer- 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


183 


77ie  case  of  Memory.  —  In  like  manner,  in  an  act  of  Mem- 
ory, consciousness  connects  a  present  existence  with  a  past.     I 
cannot  deny  the  actual  phaenomenon,  because  my  denial  would 
be  suicidal,  but  I  can,  without  self-contradiction,  assert  that 
consciousness  may  be  a  false  witness  in  regard  to  any  former 
existence ;  and  I  may  maintain,  if  I  please,  that  the  memory  of 
the  past,  in  consciousness,  is  nothing  but  a  phjienomenon,  which 
has  no  reality  beyond  the  present.     There  are  many  other  facts 
of  consciousness  which  we  cannot  but  admit  as  ideal  phsenom- 
ena,  but  may  discredit  as  guaranteeing  aught  beyond  their  phai- 
nomenal  existence  itself.     The  legality  of  this  doubt  I  do  not 
at  present  consider,  but  only  its  possibility ;  all  that  I  have  now 
in  view  being  to  show,  that  we  must  not  confound,  as  has  been 
done,  the  double  import  of  the  facts,  and  the  two  degrees  of 
evidence  for  their  reality.     This  mistake  has,  among  others, 
been  made  by  ]Mi\  Stewart.     "The  beUef,"  he  says,  "which 
accompanies   consciousness,  as  to  the  present  existence  of  its 
appropriate    phenomena,    has    been    commonly   considered   as 
much  less  obnoxious  to  cavil,  than  any  of  the  principles  wliich 
philosophers  are  accustomed  to  assume  as  self-evident,  in  the 
formation  of  their  metaphysical  systems.     No  doubts  on   this 
head  have  yet  been  suggested  by  any  philosopher,  how  scepti- 
cal soever;  even  by  those  who  have   called  in  question  the 
existence  both  of  mind  and  of  matter.     And  yet  the  fact  is, 
that  it  rests  on  no  foundation  more  solid  than  our  belief  of  the 
existence  of  external  objects  ;  or  our  belief,  that  other  men 
possess  intellectual  powers  and  faculties  similar  to  those  of 
which  we  are  conscious  in  ourselves.     In  all  these  cases,  the 
only  account  that  can  be  given  of  our  belief  is,  that  it  forms  a 
necessary  part  of  our  constitution ;  against  which  metaphysi- 
cians may  easily  argue,  so  as  to  perplex  the  judgment,  but  of 
which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  divest  ourselves  for  a  moment, 
when  we  are  called  on  to  employ  our  reason  either  in  the  busi- 

tam  past  event.  Of  the  contents  of  this  mcmor}-,  as  a  phaenomenon  given 
in  consciousness,  scepticism  is  impossible.  But  I  may  by  possibility  demur 
to  the  reality  of  all  beyond  these  contents  and  the  sphere  of  present  con- 
sciousness.*'! 


184 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


ness  of  life,  or  in  the  pursuits  of  science.  While  we  are  under 
the  influence  of  our  appetites,  passions,  or  affections,  or  even  of 
a  strong  speculative  curiosity,  all  those  difficulties,  which  be- 
wildered us  in  the  solitude  of  the  closet,  vanish  before  the 
essential  principles  of  the  human  frame." 

Criticism  of  Stewart's  view.  —  With  all  the  respect  to  which 
the  opinion  of  so  distinguished  a  philosopher  as  Mr.  Stewart  is 
justly  entitled,  I  must  be  permitted  to  say,  that  I  cannot  but 
re<rard  his  assertion,  —  that  the  present  existence  of  the  phae- 
nomena  of  consciousness,  and  the  reality  of  that  to  which  these 
phi^nomena  bear  witness,  rest  on  a  foundation  equally  eohd,  — 
as  wholly  untenable.     The  second  fact,  the  fact  testified  to,  may 
be  worthy  of   all  credit,  — as  I  agree  with  Mr.  Stewart  m 
thinking  that  it  is ;  but  still  it  does  not  rest  on  a  foundation 
equally'solid  as  the  fact  of  the  testimony  itself.     Mr.  Stewart 
confesses,  that,  of  the  former,  no  doubt  had  ever  been  suggested 
by  the  boldest  sceptic ;  and  the  latter,  in  so  far  as  it  assures  us 
of  our  having  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  external  world,  — 
which  is  the  case  alleged  by  Mr.  Stewart,  — has  been  doubted, 
nay,  denied,  not  merely  by  sceptics,  but  by  modern  philoso- 
phers  almost  to  a  man.     This  historical  cii-cumstance,  therefore, 
of  itself,  would  create  a  strong  presumption,  that  the  two  facts 
must  stand  on  very  different  foundations ;  and  this  presumption 
is  confirmed  when  we  investigate  what  these  foundations  them- 
selves are. 

The  one  fact,  —  the  fact  of  the  testimony,  is  an  act  of  con- 
sciousness itself;  it  cannot,  therefore,  be  invalidated  without 
self-contradiction.     For,  as  we   have   frequently   observed,  to 
doubt  the  reality  of  that  of  which  we  are  conscious  is  impossi- 
ble ;  for  as  we  can  only  doubt  through  consciousness,  to  doubt 
of  consciousness  is  to  doubt  of  consciousness  by  consciousness. 
If,  on  the  one  hand,  we   affirm   the  reahty  of  the  doubt,  we 
thereby  explicitly  alfirm  the  reality  of  consciousness,  and  con- 
tradict our  doubt ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  deny  the  reality  of 
consciousness,  we   implicitly  deny  the   reality  of   our   denial 
i^-rlf.     Thus,  in  the  act  of  perception,  consciousness  gives,  as  a 
conjunct  fact,  an  ego  or  mind,  and  a  non-ego  or  matter,  known 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


185 


to<^ether,  and  contradistinguished  from  each  other.     Now,  as  a 
present  phaenomenon,  this  double  fact  cannot  possibly  be  denied. 
I  cannot,  therefore,  refuse  the  fact,  that,  in  perception,  I  am 
conscious  of  a  phaenomenon,  which  I  am  compelled  to  regard  as 
the   attribute    of  something  different   from  my  mind  or  self. 
This   I   must   perforce   admit,  or   run   into   self-contradiction. 
But  admitting  tliis,  may  I  not  still,  without  self-contradiction, 
maintain  that  what  I  am  compelled  to  view  as  the  phaenomenon 
of  something  different  from  me  is,  nevertheless  (unknown  to 
me),  only  a  modification  of  my  mind?     In  this  I  admit  the 
fact  of  the  testimony  of  consciousness  as  given,  but  deny  the 
truth  of  its  report.     Whether  this  denial  of  the  truth  of  con- 
sciousness, as  a  whness,  is  or  is  not  legitimate,  we  are  not,  at 
this  moment,  to  consider :  all  I  have  in  view  at  present  is,  as  I 
said,  to  show  that  we  must  distinguish  in  consciousness  two 
kmds  of  facts,  —  the  fact  of  consciousness  testifying,  and  the 
fact  of  which  consciousness  testifies  ;  and  that  we  must  not,  as 
Mr.  Stewart  has  done,  hold  that  we  can  as  little  doubt  of  the 
fact  of  the  existence  of  an  external  world,  as  of  the  fact  that 
consciousness  gives,  in  mutual  contrast,  the  phaenomenon  of  self 
in  contrast  to  the  phaenomenon  of  not-self. 

Results  of  the  Law  of  Parcimony.  —  Under  this  first  law, 
let  it,  therefore,  be  laid  down,  in  the  first  place,  that  by  a  fact 
of  consciousness,  properly  so  called,  is  meant  a  primary  and 
universal  fact  of  our  intellectual  being  ;  and,  in  the  second,  that 
such  facts  are  of  two  kinds,  —  1°,  The  facts  given  in  the  act  of 
consciousness  itself;  and,  2°,  The  facts  which  consciousness 
does  not  at  once  give,  but  to  the  reahty  of  which  it  only  bears 
evidence.  And  as  simplification  is  always  a  matter  of  impor- 
tance, we  may  throw  out  of  account  altogether  the  former  class 
of  these  facts ;  for  of  such  no  doubt  can  be,  or  has  been,  enter- 
tained. It  is  only  the  authority  of  these  facts  as  evidence  of 
something  beyond  themselves,  —  that  is,  only  the  second  class 
of  facts,  —  which  become  matter  of  discussion ;  it  is  not  tlie 
reality  of  consciousness  that  we  have  to  prove,  but  its  veracity. 

II.   The  Law  of  Integrity.  — The  second  rule  is.  That  the 
whole  fiicts  of  consciousness  be  taken  without  reserve  or  hesi- 

16* 


186 


THE  AUTHOIilTY   OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


tation,  whether  given  as  constituent,  or  as  regulative,  data. 
This  rule  is  too  manifest  to  require  much  elucidation.  As  phi- 
losophy is  only  a  development  of  the  phaenomena  and  laws  of 
consciousness,  it  is  evident  that  philosophy  can  only  be  com- 
plete, as  it  comprehends,  in  one  harmonious  system,  all  the  con- 
stituent,-and  all  the  regulative,  facts  of  consciousness.  If  any 
phienomenon  or  constituent  fact  of  consciousness  be  omitted,  the 
system  is  not  complete ;  if  any  law  or  regulative  fact  is  ex- 
cluded, the  system  is  not  leghimate. 

III.  The  Lata  of  Harmony.  —  The  violation  of  this  second 
rule  is,  in  general,  connected  with  a  violation  of  the  third,  and 
we  shall  accordingly  illustrate  them  together.  The  third  is,  — 
That  nothing  but  the  .facts  of  consciousness  be  taken ;  or,  if 
inferences  of  reasoning  be  admitted,  that  these  at  least  be 
recognized  as  legitimate  only  as  deduced  from,  and  only  in  sub- 
ordination to,  the  immediate  data  of  consciousness,  and  that 
every  position  be  rejected  as  illegitimate  which  is  contradictory 

to  these. 

The  truth  and  necessity  of  this  rule  are  not  less  evident  than 
the  truth  and  necessity  of  the  preceding.  Philosophy  is  only  a 
systematic  evolution  of  the  contents  of  consciousness,  by  the 
instrumentality  of  consciousness ;  it,  therefore,  necessarily  sup- 
poses, in  both  respects,  the  veracity  of  consciousness. 

Bow  Scepticism  arises  out  of  partial  dogmatic  systems.  —  But, 
though  this  be  too  evident  to  admit  of  doubt,  and  though  no 
philosopher  has  ever  openly  thrown  off  allegiance  to  the  au- 
thority of  consciousness,  we  find,  nevertheless,  that  its  testi- 
mony has  been  silently  overlooked,  and  systems  established 
upon  principles  in  direct  hostility  to  the  primary  data  of  intelli- 
gence. It  is  only  such  a  violation  of  the  integrity  of  conscious- 
ness, by  the  dogmatist,  that  affords,  to  the  sceptic,  the  founda- 
tion on  which  he  can  establish  his  proof  of  the  nullity  of 
philosophy.  The  sceptic  cannot  assail  the  truth  of  the  facts  of 
consciousness  in  themselves.  In  attempting  this,  he  would  run 
at  once  into  self-contradiction.  In  the  first  place,  he  would 
enact  the  part  of  a  dogmatist,  —  that  is,  he  would  positively, 
dogmatically,  establisli  his  doubt.     In  the  second,  waiving  this, 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


187 


how  can  he  accomplish  what  he  thus  proposes  ?  For  why  ? 
He  must  attack  consciousness  either  from  a  higher  ground,  or 
from  consciousness  itself.  Higher  ground  than  consciousness 
there  is  none ;  he  must,  therefore,  invalidate  the  facts  of  con- 
sciousness from  the  ground  of  consciousness  itself.  On  this 
ground,  he  cannot,  as  we  have  seen,  deny  the  facts  of  conscious- 
ness as  given ;  he  can  only  attempt  to  invalidate  their  testi- 
mony. But  this  again  can  be  done  only  by  showing  that 
consciousness  tells  different  tales,  —  that  its  evidence  is  contra- 
dictory, —  that  its  data  are  repugnant.  But  this  no  sceptic  has 
ever  yet  been  able  to  do.  Neither  does  the  sceptic  or  negative 
philosopher  himself  assume  his  principles;  he  only  accepts 
those  on  which  the  dogmatist  or  positive  philosopher  attempts  to 
establish  his  doctrine  ;  and  this  doctrine  he  reduces  to  zero,  by 
showing  that  its  principles  are  either  mutually  repugnant,  or 
repugnant  to  facts  of  consciousness,  on  which,  though  it  may 
not  expressly  found,  still,  as  facts  of  consciousness,  it  cannot 
refuse  to  recognize  without  denying  the  possibility  of  philosophy 
in  general. 

Violations  of  these  laws  in  Br.  Brown's  doctrine  of  external 
perception.  —  I  shall  illustrate  the  violation  of  this  rule  by  ex- 
amples taken  from  the  writings  of  the  late  ingenious  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown.  —  I  must,  however,  premise  that  this  philosopher,  so 
far  from  being  singular  in  his  easy  way  of  appeahng  to,  or 
overlooking,  the  facts  of  consciousness,  as  he  finds  them  con- 
venient or  inconvenient  for  his  pui-pose,  supplies  only  a  speci- 
men of  the  too  ordinary  style  of  philosophizing.  Now,  you 
must  know,  that  Dr.  Brown  maintains  the  common  doctrine  of 
the  philosophers,  that  we  have  fio  immediate  knowledge  of  any 
thing  beyond  the  states  or  7nodifications  of  our  own  minds,  — 
that  we  are  only  conscious  of  the  ego,  —  the  non-ego,  as  known, 
being  only  a  modification  of  self,  which  mankind  at  large  are 
illusively  determined  to  view  as  external  and  different  from 
self.  This  doctrine  is  contradictory  to  the  fact  to  which  conscious- 
ness testifies,  —  that  the  object  of  which  we  are  conscious  in  per- 
ception, is  the  external  reality  as  existing,  and  not  merely  its 
representation  in  the  percipient  mind.     That  this  is  the  fact 


188 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


'A 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


189 


testified  to  by  consciousness,  and  believed  by  the  common  sense 
of  mankind,  is  admitted  even  by  those  pliilosophers  who  reject 
the  truth  of  the  testimony  and  the  belief.  It  is  of  no  conse- 
quence to  us  at  present  what  are  the  grounds  on  which  the 
principle  is  founded,  that  the  mind  can  have  no  knowledge  of 
aught  besides  itself;  it  is  sufficient  to  observe,  that,  this  princi- 
ple being  contradictory  to  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  Dr. 
Brown,  by  adopting  it,  virtually  accuses  consciousness  of  false- 
hood. But  if  consciousness  be  false  in  its  testimony  to  one  fact, 
we  can  have  no  confidence  in  its  testhnony  to  any  other ;  and 
Brown,  having  himself  belied  the  veracity  of  consciousness, 
cannot,  therefore,  again  appeal  to  this  veracity  as  to  a  credible 
authority.  But  he  is  not  thus  consistent.  Although  he  does 
not  allow  that  we  have  any  knowledge  of  the  exi^tence  of  an 
outer  world,  the  existence  of  that  world  he  still  maintains. 
And  on  what  grounds  ?  He  admits  the  reasoning  of  the  ideal- 
ist, that  is,  of  the  philosopher  who  denies  the  reality  of  the 
material  universe,  —  he  admits  this  to  be  invincible.  How, 
then,  is  this  conclusion  avoided  ?  Simply  by  appealing  to  the 
universal  belief  of  mankind  in  favor  of  the  existence  of  exter- 
nal things,*  —  that  is,  to  the  authority  of  a  fact  of  conscious- 
ness. But  to  him  this  appeal  is  incompetent.  For,  jn  the 
first  place,  having  already  virtually  given  up,  or  rather  posi- 
tively rejected,  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  when  conscious- 
ness deposed  to  our  immediate  knowledge  of  external  things,  — 
how  can  he  even  found  upon  the  veracity  of  that  mendacious 
principle,  when  bearing  evidence  to  the  unknown  existence  of 
external  things  ?  /  cannot  hut  believe  that  the  material  reality 
exists ;  therefore,  it  does  exist,  ^or  consciousness  does  not  deceive 

*  [Tenncmann,  speaking  of  Plato,  says  :  "  The  illusion  that  things  in  them- 
selves are  cognizable,  is  so  natural,  that  we  need  not  marvel  if  even  philoso- 
phers have  not  been  able  to  emancipate  themselves  from  the  prejudice. 
The  common  sense  of  mankind  (gemeine,  Menschenverstand),  whicli  re- 
mains steadfast  within  the  sphere  of  expeiience,  recognizes  no  distinction 
between  things  in  themselves  [unknown  reality  existing]  and  phenomeim 
[representation,  object  known] ;  and  the  philosophizing  reason,  commences 
therewith  its  attempt  to  investigate  the  foundation  of  this  knowledge,  and 
to  recall  itself  into  system."]  —  Quoted  in  Notes  to  Discussions,  p.  92. 


y^g this  reasoning  Dr.  Brown  employs  when  defending  his 

assertion  of  an  outer  world.  I  cannot  but  believe  that  the  mate- 
rial reality  is  the  object  immediately  known  in  perception  ;  there- 
fore, it  is  immediately  known,  for  consciousness  does  not  deceive 

^g this  reasoning  Dr.  Brown  rejects  when  estabhshing  the 

foundation  of  his  system.  In  the  one  case,  he  maintains,  —  this 
belief,  because  u-resistible,  is  true ;  in  the  other  case,  he  main- 
tains,—this  belief,  though  irresistible,  is  false.  Consciousness 
is  veracious  in  the  former  belief,  mendacious  in  the  latter.  I 
approbate  the  one,  I  reprobate  the  other.  The  inconsistency 
of  this  is  apparent.  It  becomes  more  palpable  when  we  con- 
sider, in  the  second  place,  that  the  belief  which  Dr.  Brown 
assumes  as  true  rests  on  —  is,  in  fact,  only  the  reflex  of —  the  be- 
hef  which  he  repudiates  as  false.  Why  do  mankind  believe 
in  the  existenc^f  an  outer  world?  They  do  not  believe  in  it 
as  in  something  unknown ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  they  believe  it 
to  exist,  only  because  they  believe  that  they  immediately  know 
it  to  exist.  The  former  belief  is  only  as  it  is  founded  on  the 
latter.  Of  all  absurdities,  therefore,  the  greatest  is  to  assert, — 
on  the  one  hand,  that  consciousness  deceives  us  in  the  belief 
that  we  know  any  material  object  to  exist,  and,  on  the  other, 
that  the  material  object  exists,  because,  though  on  false  grounds, 
we  believe  it  to  exist. 

Brown's  proof  of  our  Personal  Identity.  — I  may  give  you 
another  instance,  from  the  same  author,  of  the  wild  work  that 
the  application  of  this  rule  makes,  among  pliilosophical' systems 
not  legitimately  established.  Dr.  Brown,  with  other  philoso- 
phers, rests  the  proof  of  our  Personal  Identity,  and  of  our 
Mental  Individuality,  on  the  ground  of  beliefs,  which,  as  "  in- 
tuitive, universal,  immediate,  and  irresistible,"  he,  not  unjustly, 
regards  as  the  "  internal  and  never-ceasing  voice  of  our  Cre- 
ator,  —  revelations  from  on  high,  omnipotent  [and  veracious] 
as  their  Author."  To  him  this  argument  is,  however,  incompe- 
tent, as  contradictory. 

Wliat  we  know  of  self  or  person,  we  know  only  as  a  fact  of 
consciousness.  In  our  perceptive  consciousness,  there  is  re- 
vealed, in  contrast  to  each,  a  self  and  a  7iot-self     This  contrast 


y^-^ 


190 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


% 

« 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


191 


is  either  true  or  false.  If  tnie,  then  am  I  conscious  of  an  ohject 
different  from  me,  —  that  is,  I  have  an  immediate  perception  of 
the  external  reality.  If  false,  then  am  I  not  conscious  of  any 
thing  different  from  me,  but  what  I  am  constrained  to  regard  as 
not-me  is  only  a  modification  of  me,  which,  by  an  illusion  of  my 
nature,  I  mistake,  and  must  mistake,  for  something  different 

from  me. 

Now,  will  it  be  credited  that  Dr.  Brown  —  and  be  it  remem- 
bered that  I  adduce  him  only  as  the  representative  of  a  great 
majority  of  philosophers  —  affirms  or  denies,  just  as  he  finds  it 
convenient  or  inconvenient,  this  fact,  —  this  distinction  of  con- 
sciousness ?  In  his  doctrine  of  Perception,  he  explicitly  denies 
its  truth,  in  denying  that  mind  is  conscious  of  aught  beyond 
itself.  But,  in  other  parts  of  his  philosophy,  this  false  fact,  this 
illusive  distinction,  and  the  deceitful  beUef  fomided  thereupon, 
are  appealed  to  (I  quote  his  expressions),  as  *^velations  from 
on  high,  —  as  the  never-ceasing  voice  of  our  Creator,"  etc. 

Thus,  on  the  veracity  of  this  mendacious  belief.  Dr.  Bro^n 
establishes  his  proof  of  our  personal  identity.  Touclnng  the 
object  of  perception,  when  its  evidence  is  inconvenient,  this 
behef  is  quietly  passed  over,  as  incompetent  to  distinguish  not- 
self  from  self;  in  the  question  regarding  our  personal  identity, 
where  its  testimony  is  convenient,  it  is  clamorously  cited  as  an 
inspired  witness,  exclusively  competent  to  distinguish  self  from 
not-self.  Yet  why,  if,  in  the  one  case,  it  mistook  self  for  not- 
self,  it  may  not,  in  the  other,  mistake  not-self  for  self,  would 
appear  a  prol)lem  not  of  the  ea.siest  solution. 

And  of  our  IndividuaUti/.  —  The  same  belief,  with  the  same 
inconsistency,  is  called  in  to  prove  the  Individuality  of  mind. 
But  if  we  are  fallaciously  determined,  in  our  perceptive  con- 
sciousness, to  regard  mind  both  as  mind  and  as  matter,  —  for, 
on  Brown's  hypothesis,  in  perception,  the  object  perceived  is 
only  a  mode  of  the  percipient  subject,  —  if,  I  say,  in  this  act,  I 
must  view  what  is  supposed  one  and  indivisible,  as  plural,  and 
different,  and  opposed,  —  how  is  it  possible  to  appeal  to  the 
authority  of  a  testimony  so  treacherous  as  consciousness  for  an 
evidence   of    the   real   simplicity   of    the   thinking   principle? 


How,  says  the  materialist  to  Brown,  —  how  can  you  appeal 
an-ainst  me  to  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  which  you  your- 
self reject  when  against  your  own  opinions,  and  how  can  you, 
on  the  authority  of  that  testimony,  maintain  the  unity  of  self  to 
be  more  than  an  illusive  appearance,  when  self  and  not-self,  as 
known  to  consciousness,  are,  on  your  own  hypothesis,  confess- 
edly only  modifications  of  the  same  percipient  subject  ?  If,  on 
your  doctrine,  consciousness  can  split  what  you  hold  to  be  one 
and  indivisible  into  two,  not  only  different  but  opposed,  exist- 
ences, —  what  absurdity  is  there,  on  mine,  that  consciousness 
should  exhibit  as  pha?nomenally  one,  what  we  both  hold  to  be 
really  manifold  ?  If  you  give  the  lie  to  consciousness  in  favor 
of  your  hypothesis,  you  can  have  no  reasonable  objection  that  I 
should  give  it  the  lie  in  favor  of  mine.  If  you  can  maintain 
that  not-self  is  only  an  illusive  phaenomenon,  —  being,  in  fact, 
only  self  in  disguise ;  I  may  also  maintain,  e  contra,  that  self 
is  only  an  illusive  phainomenon,  —  and  that  the  apparent  unity 
of  the  ego  is  only  the  result  of  an  organic  harmony  of  action 
between  the  particles  of  matter. 

The  absolute  and  universal  veracity  of  consciousness.  —  From 
these  examples,  the  truth  of  the  position  I  maintain  is  mani- 
fest, —  that  a  fact  of  consciousness  can  only  be  rejected  on  the 
supposition  of  falsity,  and  that,  the  falsity  of  one  fact  of  con- 
sciousness being  admitted,  the  truth  of  no  other  fact  of  con- 
sciousness can  be  maintained.  The  legal  brocard,  Falsus  in 
uno,  falsus  in  omnibus,  is  a  rule  not  more  applicable  to  other 
witnesses  than  to  consciousness.  Thus,  every  system  of  phi- 
losophy which  implies  the  negation  of  any  fact  of  conscious- 
ness, is  not  only  necessarily  unable,  without  self-contradiction, 
to  establish  its  own  truth  by  any  appeal  to  consciousness ;  it  is 
also  unable,  without  self-contradiction,  to  appeal  to  conscious- 
ness against  the  falsehood  of  any  other  system.  If  the  abso- 
lute and  universal  veracity  of  consciousness  be  once  surren- 
dered, every  system  is  equally  true,  or  rather  all  are  equally 
false  ;  philosophy  is  impossible,  for  it  has  now  no  instrument  by 
which  truth  can  be  discovered,  —  no  standard  by  which  it  can 
be  tried  ;  the  root  of  our  nature  is  a  lie.     But  though  it  is  thus 


190 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


191 


is  either  true  or  false.  If  true,  then  am  I  conscious  of  an  ol^'ect 
different  from  me,  —  that  is,  I  have  an  immediate  perception  of 
the  external  reality.  If  false,  then  am  I  not  conscious  of  any 
thing  different  from  me,  but  what  I  am  constrained  to  regard  as 
not-me  is  only  a  modification  of  me,  which,  by  an  illusion  of  my 
nature,  I  mistake,  and  must  mistake,  for  something  different 
from  me. 

Now,  will  it  be  credited  that  Dr.  Brown  —  and  be  it  remem- 
bered that  I  adduce  him  only  as  the  representative  of  a  great 
majority  of  philosophers  —  affirms  or  denies,  just  as  he  finds  it 
convenient  or  inconvenient,  this  fact,  —  this  distinction  of  con- 
sciousness ?  In  his  doctrine  of  Perception,  he  explicitly  denies 
its  truth,  in  denying  that  mind  is  conscious  of  aught  beyond 
itself  But,  in  other  parts  of  his  philosophy,  this  false  fact,  this 
illusive  distinction,  and  the  deceitful  behef  founded  thereupon, 
are  appealed  to  (I  quote  his  expressions),  as  *^velations  from 
on  high,  —  as  the  never-ceasing  voice  of  our  Creator,"  etc. 

Thus,  on  the  veracity  of  this  mendacious  belief.  Dr.  BrowTi 
estabhshes  his  proof  of  our  personal  identity.  Touching  the 
object  of  perception,  when  its  evidence  is  inconvenient,  this 
behef  is  quietly  passed  over,  as  incompetent  to  distinguish  not- 
self  from  self;  in  the  question  regarding  our  personal  identity, 
where  its  testimony  is  convenient,  it  is  clamorously  cited  as  an 
inspired  witness,  exclusively  competent  to  distinguish  self  from 
not-self.  Yet  why,  if,  in  the  one  case,  it  mistook  self  for  not- 
self,  it  may  not,  in  the  other,  mistake  not-self  for  self;  would 
appear  a  problem  not  of  the  easiest  solution. 

And  of  our  Individuality.  —  The  same  belief,  with  the  same 
inconsistency,  is  called  in  to  prove  the  Individuality  of  mind. 
But  if  we  are  fallaciously  determined,  in  our  perceptive  con- 
sciousness, to  regard  mind  both  as  mind  and  as  matter,  —  for, 
on  Brown's  hypothesis,  in  perception,  the  object  perceived  is 
only  a  mode  of  the  percipient  subject,  —  if,  I  say,  in  this  act,  I 
must  view  what  is  supposed  one  and  indivisible,  as  plural,  and 
different,  and  opposed,  —  how  is  it  possible  to  appeal  to  the 
authority  of  a  testimony  so  treacherous  as  consciousness  for  an 
evidence   of    the    real   simplicity    of    the    thinking   principle? 


# 


\\ 


How,  says  the  materialist  to  Brown,  —  how  can  you  appeal 
ao-ainst  me  to  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  which  you  your- 
self reject  when  against  your  own  opinions,  and  how  can  you, 
on  the  authority  of  that  testimony,  maintain  the  unity  of  self  to 
be  more  than  an  illusive  appearance,  when  self  and  not-self,  as 
known  to  consciousness,  are,  on  your  own  hypothesis,  confess- 
edly only  modifications  of  the  same  percipient  subject  ?  If,  on 
your  doctrine,  consciousness  can  split  what  you  hold  to  be  one 
and  indivisible  into  two,  not  only  different  but  opposed,  exist- 
ences, —  what  absurdity  is  there,  on  mine,  that  consciousness 
should  exhibit  as  phoenomenally  one,  what  we  both  hold  to  be 
really  manifold  ?  If  you  give  the  lie  to  consciousness  in  favor 
of  your  hypothesis,  you  can  have  no  reasonable  objection  that  I 
should  give  it  the  lie  in  favor  of  mine.  If  you  can  maintain 
that  not-self  is  only  an  illusive  phaenomenon,  —  being,  in  fact, 
only  self  in  disguise ;  I  may  also  maintain,  e  contra,  that  self 
is  only  an  illusive  phaenomenon,  —  and  that  the  apparent  unity 
of  the  ego  is  only  the  result  of  an  organic  harmony  of  action 
between  the  particles  of  matter. 

The  absolute  and  universal  veracity  of  consciousness.  —  From 
these  examples,  the  truth  of  the  position  I  maintain  is  mani- 
fest, —  that  a  fact  of  consciousness  can  only  be  rejected  on  the 
supposition  of  falsity,  and  that,  the  falsity  of  one  fact  of  con- 
sciousness being  admitted,  the  truth  of  no  other  fact  of  con- 
sciousness can  be  maintained.  The  legal  brocard,  Falsus  in 
uno,falsus  in  omnibus,  is  a  rule  not  more  applicable  to  other 
witnesses  than  to  consciousness.  Thus,  every  system  of  phi- 
losophy which  implies  the  negation  of  any  fact  of  conscious- 
ness, is  not  only  necessarily  unable,  without  self-contradiction, 
to  establish  its  own  truth  by  any  appeal  to  consciousness ;  it  is 
also  unable,  without  self-contradiction,  to  appeal  to  conscious- 
ness against  the  falsehood  of  any  other  system.  If  the  abso- 
lute and  universal  veracity  of  consciousness  be  once  surren- 
dered, every  system  is  equally  true,  or  rather  all  are  equally 
false  ;  philosophy  is  impossible,  for  it  has  now  no  instrument  by 
which  truth  can  be  discovered,  —  no  standard  by  which  it  can 
be  tried  ;  the  root  of  our  nature  is  a  he.     But  though  it  is  thus 


192 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


manifestly  the  common  interest  of  every  scheme  of  philosophy 
to  preserve  intact  the  integrity  of  consciousness,  almost  every 
scheme  of  philosophy  is  only  another  mode  in  which  this  integ- 
rity has  been  violated.  K,  therefore,  I  am  able  to  prove  the 
fact  of  this  various  violation,  and  to  show  that  the  facts  of  con- 
sciousness have  never,  or  hardly  ever,  been  fairly  evolved,  it 
will  follow,  as  I  said,  that  no  reproach  can  be  justly  addressed 
to  consciousness  as  an  ill-informed,  or  vacillating,  or  perfidious 
witness,  but  to  those  only  who  were  too  proud,  or  too  negligent, 
to  accept  its  testhnony,  to  employ  its  materials,  and  to  obey  its 
laws.  And  on  this  supposition,  so  far  should  we  be  from  de- 
spairing of  the  future  advance  of  philosophy  from  the  expe- 
rience of  its  i)ast  wanderings,  that  we  ought,  on  the  contrary,  to 
anticipate  for  it  a  steady  progress,  the  moment  that  philosophers 
can  be  persuaded  to  look  to  consciousness,  and  to  consciousness 
alone,  for  theii*  materials  and  their  rules. 


i 


f 


CHAPTER    XII. 

VIOLATIONS   OF   THE   AUTHORITY   OF   CONSCIOUSNESS   IN 
VARIOUS   THEORIES   OF   PERCEPTION. 

No  retrenchment  possible  of  the  facts  of  consciousness. — 
As  all  philosophy  is  evolved  from  consciousness,  so,  on  the 
truth  of  consciousness,  the  possibility  of  all  philosophy  is  de- 
pendent. Hence,  it  is  manifest,  at  once  and  without  further 
reasoning,  that  no  philosophical  theory  can  pretend  to  truth 
except  that  single  theory  which  comprehends  and  develops  the 
foot  of  consciousness  on  which  it  founds,  without  retrenchment, 
distortion,  or  addition.  Were  a  philosophical  system  to  pretend 
that  it  culls  out  all  that  is  correct  in  a  fact  of  consciousness, 
and  rejects  only  what  is  erroneous,  —  what  would  be  the  mev- 
itable  result  ?  In  the  first  place,  this  system  admits,  and  must 
admit,  that  it  is  wholly  dependent  on  consciousness  for  its  con- 
stituent elements,  and  for  the  rules  by  which  these  are  selected 
and  arranged,  —  in  short,  that  it  is  wholly  dependent  on  con- 
sciousness for  its  knowledge  of  true  and  false.  But,  in  the 
second  place,  it  pretends  to  select  a  part,  and  to  reject  a  part, 
of  a  fact  given  and  guaranteed  by  consciousness.  Now,  by 
what  criterion,  by  what  standard,  can  it  discriminate  the  true 
from  the  false  in  this  fact  ?  This  criterion  must  be  either  con- 
sciousness itself,  or  an  instrument  different  from  consciousness. 
If  it  be  an  instrument  different  from  consciousness,  what  is  it  ? 
No  such  instrument  has  ever  yet  been  named  —  has  ever  yet 
been  heard  of.  If  it  exist,  and  if  it  enable  us  to  criticize  the 
data  of  consciousness,  it  must  be  a  higher  source  of  knowledge 
than  consciousness,  and  thus  it  will  replace  consciousness  as  the 
first  and  generative  principle  of  philosophy.  But  of  any  prin- 
ciple of  this  character,  different  from  consciousness,  philosophy 

17  (193) 


194 


INTEGRITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


is  yet  in  ignorance.     It  remains  unenounccd  and  unknown.     It 
may,  therefore,  be  safely  assumed  not  to  be. 

The  standard,  therefore,  by  which  any  philosophical  theory 
can  profess  to  regulate  its  choice  among  the  elements  of  any 
fact  of  consciousness,  must  be  consciousness  itself.  Now,  mark 
the  dilemma.  The  theory  makes  consciousness  the  discrim- 
inator between  what  is  true  and  what  is  false  in  its  own  testi- 
mony. But  if  consciousness  be  assumed  to  be  a  mendacious 
witness  in  certain  parts  of  its  evidence,  how  can  it  be  pre- 
sumed a  veracious  witness  in  others  ?  This  it  cannot  be.  It 
must  be  held  as  false  in  all,  if  false  in  any ;  and  the  philosophi- 
cal theory  which  starts  from  this  hypothesis,  starts  from  a  nega- 
tion of  itself  in  the  negation  of  philosophy  in  general.  Again, 
on  the  hypothesis  that  part  of  the  deliverance  of  consciousness 
is  true,  part  false,  how  can  consciousness  enable  us  to  distin- 
guish these  ?  This  has  never  yet  been  shown ;  it  is,  in  fact, 
inconceivable.  But,  further,  how  is  it  discovered  that  any  part 
of  a  datum  of  consciousness  is  false,  another  true  ?  This  can 
only  be  done  if  the  datum  involve  a  contradiction.  But  if  the 
facts  of  consciousness  be  contradictory,  then  is  consciousness  a 
principle  of  falsehood ;  and  the  greatest  of  conceivable  foUies 
would  be  an  attempt  to  employ  such  a  principle  in  the  discovery 
of  truth.  And  such  an  act  of  folly  is  every  philosophical  the- 
oiy,  which,  departing  from  an  admission  that  the  data  of  con- 
sciousness are  false,  would  still  pretend  to  build  out  of  them  a 
system  of  truth.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  data  of  con- 
sciousness are  not  contradictory,  and  consciousness,  therefore, 
not  a  self-convicted  deceiver,  how  is  the  unai)parent  falsehood 
of  its  evidence  to  be  evinced  ?  This  is  manifestly  impossible  ; 
for  such  falsehood  is  not  to  be  presumed ;  and,  we  have  pre- 
viously seen,  there  is  no  higher  principle  by  which  the  tes- 
timony of  consciousness  can  be  canvassed  and  redargued. 
Consciousness,  therefore,  is  to  be  presumed  veracious ;  a  philo- 
sophical theory  which  accepts  one  part  of  the  harmonious  data 
of  consciousness,  and  rejects  another,  is  manifestly  a  mere 
cai^rice,  ii  chimera  not  worthy  of  consideration,  far  less  of 
articulate  disproof.     It  is  ab  initio  null. 


THE  DUALITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


195 


The  Duality  of  Consciousness.  —  In  order  still  further  to 
evince  to  you  the  importance  of  the  precept  (namely,  that  we 
must  look  to  consciousness,  and  to  consciousness  alone,  for  the 
materials  and  rules  of  philosophy),  and  to  show  articulately 
how  all  the  variations  of  philosophy  have  been  determined  by 
its  neglect,  I  will  take  those  facts  of  consciousness  which  lie  at 
the  very  root  of  philosophy,  and  with  which,  consequently,  all 
philosophical  systems  are  necessarily  and  primarily  conversant ; 
and  point  out  how,  besides  the  one  true  doctrine  which  accepts 
and  simply  states  the  fact  as  given,  there  are  always  as  many 
various  actual  theories  as  there  are  various  possible  modes  of 
distorting  or  mutilating  this  faet.     I  shall  commence  with  that 
great  fact  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  —  that  we  are  im- 
mediately  conscious  in  perception  of  an  Ego  and  a  Non-ego, 
known  together,  and  known  in  contrast  to  each  other.     This  is 
the  fact  of   the    Duality  of    Consciousness.     It  is  clear  and 
manifest.     When  I  concentrate  my  attention  in  the  simplest  act 
of  perception,  I  return  from  my  observation  with   the  most 
kresistible  conviction  of  two  facts,  or  rather  two  branches  of 
the  same  fact; — that  I  am,  —  and  that  something  different 
from  me  exists.     In  this  act,  I  am  conscious  of  myself  as  the 
perceiving  subject,  and  of  an  external  reality  as  the  object  per- 
ceived ;  and  I  am  conscious  of  both  existences  in  the  same 
indivisible  moment  of  intuition.     The  knowledge  of  the  subject 
does  not  precede,  nor  follow,  the  knowledge  of  the  object ;  — 
neither  determines,  neither  is  determined  by,  the  other. 

The  fact  of  this  testimony  allowed  even  hy  those  loho  deny  its 
truth.  —  Such  is  the  fact  of  perception  revealed  in  conscious- 
ness, and  as  it  determines  mankind  in  general  in  their  almost 
equal  assurance  of  the  reality  of  an  external  world,  as  of  the 
existence  of  their  own  mmds.  Consciousness  declares  our 
knowledge  of  material  qualities  to  be  intuitive  or  immediate,  — 
not  representative  or  mediate.  Nor  is  the  fact,  a^  given, 
denied  even  by  those  who  disallow  its  truth.  So  clear  is  the 
deliverance,  that  even  the  philosophers  who  reject  an  intuitive 
perception,  find  it  impossible  not  to  admit,  that  their  doctrine 
stands  decidedly  opposed  to  the  voice  of  consciousness,  —  to  the 


196 


THE  DUALITY  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


natural  convictions  of  mankind.  I  may  give  you  some  exam- 
ples oi  the  admission  of  this  fact,  which  it  is  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  place  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt.  I  quote, 
of  course,  only  from  those  philosophers  whose  systems  are  in 
contradiction  of  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  which  they  are 
forced  to  admit. 

Tlie  following  is  [Reid's  quotation]  from  Berkeley,  towards 
the  conclusion  of  the  work,  in  which  his  system  of  Idealism  is 
established :  —  "  When  Hylas  is  at  last  entirely  converted,  he 
observes  to  Philonous,  — '  After  all,  the  controversy  about  mat- 
ter, in  the  strict  acceptation  of  it,  lies  altogether  between  you 
and  the  pliilosophers,  whose  principles,  I  acknowledge,  are  not 
near  so  natural,  or  so  agreeable  to  the  common  sense  of  man- 
kind and  Holy  Scripture,  as   yours.'      Philonous  observes  in 
the  end,  — '  That  he  does  not  pretend  to  be  a  setter-up  of  new 
notions ;  his  endeavors  tend   only   to  unite,  and  to  place  in  a 
clearer  light,  that  truth  which  was  before  shared  between  the 
vulgar  and  the  philosophers ;  the  former  being  of  opinion,  that 
those  thuigs  they  immediately  perceive  are  the  real  things ;  and 
the  latter,  that   the   things   immediately  perceived   are   ideas 
which  exist  only  in  the  mind ;  which  two  things  put  together 
do,  in   effect,  constitute  the   substance  of  what  he  advances.' 
And  lie  concludes  by  observing,  — '  That  those  principles  which 
at  first  view  lead  to  scepticism,  pursued  to  a  certain  point,  bring 
men  back  to  common  sense.'  " 

Here  you  will  notice  that  Berkeley  admits  that  the  common 
belief  of  mankind  is,  that  the  things  immediately  perceived  are 
not  representative  objects  in  the  mind,  but  the  external  realities 
themselves.  Hume,  in  like  manner,  makes  the  same  confes- 
sion ;  and  the  confession  of  that  sceptical  Idealist,  or  sceptical 
Nihihst,  is  of  the  utmost  weight. 

"  It  seems  evident  that  men  are  carried  by  a  natural  instinct 
or  prepossession  to  repose  faith  in  their  senses ;  and  that,  with- 
out any  reasoning,  or  even  almost  before  the  use  of  reason,  we 
always  suppose  an  external  universe,  which  depends  not  on  our 
perception,  but  would  exist  though  we  and  every  sensible  crea- 
ture were  absent  or  annihilated.     Even  the  animal  creation  are 


THE  DUALITY   OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


197 


governed  by  a  like  opinion,  and  preserve  this  belief  of  external 
objects  in  all  their  thoughts,  designs,  and  actions. 

"  It  seems  also  evident  that,  when  men  follow  this  blind  and 
powerful  instinct  of  nature,  they  always  suppose  the  very  im- 
a<Tes  presented  by  the  senses  to  be  the  external  objects,  and 
never  entertain  any  suspicion  that  the  one  are  nothing  but 
representations  of  the  other.  Tliis  very  table,  which  we  see 
white,  and  which  we  feel  hard,  is  believed  to  exist,  independent 
of  our  perception,  and  to  be  something  external  to  our  mind, 
which  perceives  it.  Our  presence  bestows  not  being  on  it,  — 
our  absence  does  not  annihilate  it.  It  preserves  its  existence 
uniform  and  entire,  independent  of  the  situation  of  intelligent 

beings,  who  perceive  or  contemplate  it 

"  Do  you  follow  the  instincts  and  propensities  of  nature,  may . 
they  say,  in  assenting  to  the  veracity  of  sense  ?  But  these  lead 
you  to  believe  that  the  very  perception  or  sensible  image  is  the 
external  object.  Do  you  disclaim  this  principle,  in  order  to 
embrace  a  more  rational  opinion,  that  the  perceptions  are  only 
representations  of  somethmg  external?  You  here  depart  from 
your  natural  propensities  and  more  obvious  sentiments ;  and  yet 
are  not  able  to  satisfy  your  reason,  which  can  never  find  any 
convincing  argument  from  experience  to  prove  that  the  per- 
ceptions are  connected  with  any  external  objects." 

We  are  conscious  of  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  not-self  — 
The  fact  that  consciousness  does  testify  to  an  immediate  knowl- 
edge by  mind  of  an  object  different  from  any  modification  of  its 
own,  is  thus  admitted  even  by  those  philosophers  who  still  -do 
not  hesitate  to  deny  the  truth  of  the  testimony ;  for  to  say  that 
all  men  do  naturally  beheve  in  such  a  knowledge,  is  only,  in 
other  words,  to  say  that  they  believe  it  upon  the  authority  of 
consciousness.     A  fact  of  consciousness,  and  a  fact  of  the  com- 
mon sense  of  mankind,  are  only  various   expressions   of  the 
same  import.     We  may,  therefore,  lay  it  down  as  an  undis- 
puted truth,  that  consciousness  gives,  as  an  ultimate  fact,  a 
primitive   duality ;  —  a  knowledge  of  the  Ego  in  relation  and 
contrast  to  the  Non-ego ;  and  a  knowledge  of  the  Non-ego  in 
relation  and  contrast  to  the  Ego.     The  Ego  and  Non-ego  ai-e, 

17* 


198 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


thus,  given  in  an  original  synthesis,  as  conjoined  in  the  unity  of 
knowledge,  and,  in  an  original  antithesis,  as  opposed  in  the  con- 
trariety of  existence.  In  other  words,  we  are  conscious  of  them 
in  an  indivisible  act  of  knowledge  together  and  at  once,  —  but 
we  are  conscious  of  them  as,  in  themselves,  different  and  exclu- 
sive of  each  other. 

Again,  consciousness  not  only  gives  us  a  duality,  but  it  gives 
its  elements  in  equal  counterpoise  and  independence.  The  Ego 
and  Non-ego  —  mind  and  matter  —  are  not  only  given  together, 
but  in  absolute  coequality.  The  one  does  not  precede,  the  other 
does  not  follow  ;  and,  in  their  mutual  relations,  each  is  equally 
dependent,  equally  independent.  Such  is  the  fact  as  given  in 
and  by  consciousness. 

Different  philosophical  systems  which  deny  this  fact.  —  Phi- 
losophers have  not,  however,  been  content  to  accept  the  foct  in 
its  integrity,  but  have  been  pleased  to  accept  it  only  under  such 
qualifications  as  it  suited  their  systems  to  devise.  In  truth, 
there  are  just  as  many  different  philosophical  systems  originat- 
ing in  this  fact,  as  it  admits  of  various  possible  modifications. 
An  enumeration  of  these  modifications,  accordingly,  affords  an 
enumeration  of  philosophical  theories. 

Natural  Realists.  —  In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  grand 
division  of  philosophers  into  those  who  do,  and  those  who  do 
not,  accept  the  fact  in  its  integrity.  Of  modern  philosophers, 
almost  all  are  comprehended  under  the  latter  category ;  while 
of  the  former,  —  if  we  do  not  remount  to  the  Schoohnen  and 
the  ancients,  —  I  am  only  aware  of  a  single  philosopher  before 
Reid,  who  did  not  reject,  at  least  in  part,  the  ftict  as  conscious- 
ness affords  it.  As  it  is  always  expedient  to  possess  a  precise 
name  for  a  precise  distinction,  I  would  be  inclined  to  denomi- 
nate those  who  implicitly  acquiesce  in  the  primitive  duality  as 
iriven  in  consciousness,  the  Natural  Realists  or  Natural  Dual- 
ists ;  and  their  doctrine,  Natural  Realism  or  Natural  Dualism. 

In  the  second  place,  the  philosophers  who  do  not  accept  the 
fact,  and  the  whole  fact,  may  be  divided  and  subdivided  into 
various  classes  by  various  principles  of  distribution. 

Suhstantialists  and  Nihilists.  —  The  first  subdivision  will  be 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


199 


taken  from  the  total,  or  partial,  rejections  of  the  import  of  the 
fact.     I  have  previously  shown  you  that  to  deny  any  fact  of 
consciousness   as  an  actual  pha?nomenon  is  utterly  impossible. 
But,  though  necessarily  admitted  as  a  present  pha^nomenon,  the 
import  of  this  phajnomenon,  —  all  beyond  our  actual  conscious- 
ness of  its  existence,  may  be  denied.     We  are  able,  without 
self-contradiction,  to  suppose,  and,  consequently,  to  assert,  that 
all  to  which  the  phacnomenon  of  which  we  are  conscious  refers, 
is  a  deception  ;  —  that,  for  Qxample,  the  past  to  which  an  act  of 
memory  refers,  is  only  an  illusion  involved  in  our  consciousness 
of  the  present ;  —  that  the  unknown  subject  to  which  eveiy 
phfenomenon  of  which  we  are  conscious  involves  a  reference, 
has  no  reality  beyond  this  reference  itself;  —  in  short,  that  all 
our  knowledge  of  mind  or  matter  is  only  a  consciousness  of 
various  bundles  of  baseless  appearances.     This  doctrine,  as  re- 
fusing a  substantial  reality  to  the  phsenomenal  existence  of 
which  we  are  conscious,  is  called  Nihilism ;  and,  consequently, 
philosophers,  as  they  affirm  or  deny  the  authority  of  conscious- 
ness in   ^uaranteein<?  a  substratum  or  substance  to  the  mani- 
festations  of  the   Ego  and  Non-ego,  are  divided  into  Realists 
or  Suhstantialists,  and  Nihilists  or  Non-Substantialists.    Of  posi- 
tive or  dogmatic  Nihilism,  there  is  no  example  in  modern  phi- 
losophy ;  for  Oken's  deduction  of  the  universe  from  the  original 
nothing,  —  the  nothing  being  equivalent  to  the  Absolute  or  God, 

—  is  only  the  paradoxical  foundation  of  a  system  of  Reahsm ; 
and,  in  ancient  philosophy,  we  know  too  little  of  the  book  of 
Gorgias  the  Sophist,  entitled  FIsqI  tov  ^)j  ovrog,  tj  tisqI  (fvasag, 

—  Concerning  Nature  or  the  Non-existent,  —  to  be  able  to  af- 
firm whether  it  were  maintained  by  him  as  a  dogmatic  and  bona 
fide  doctrine.  But  as  a  sceptical  conclusion  from  the  premises 
of  previous  philosophers,  we  have  an  illustrious  example  of 
Nihilism  in  Hume  ;  and  the  celebrated  Fichte  admits  that  the 
speculative  principles  of  his  own  Idealism  would,  unless  cor- 
rected by  his  practical,  terminate  in  this  resuU.* 

*  [In  the  Notes  to  Rcid,  Htunilton  translates  the  following  passage  from 
Fichte's  "  Destination  of  Man,"  to  prove  that  ¥ichtean  idealism  terminates 
in  thorough- going  Nihilism.     "The  sum  total,"  says  Fichte,  "is  this  :  — 


200 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


Realists  divided  into  Hypothetical  Dualists  and  3foni<fs.  — 
The  Realists  t  or  Substantialists  are  again  divided  into  Dualists, 

there  is  absolutely  nothing  permanent  either  without  or  within  me,  but  only 
an  unceasing  change.  I  know  absolutely  nothing  of  any  existence,  not 
even  of  my  own.  I  myself  know  nothing  and  am  nothing.  Images  {I3il- 
der)  there  are ;  they  constitute  all  that  apparently  exists,  and  what  they 
know  of  themselves  is  after  the  manner  of  images ;  images  that  pass  and 
vanish  without  there  being  aught  to  witness  their  transition ;  that  consist 
in  fact  of  the  images  of  images,  without  significance  and  without  an  aim. 
I  myself  am  one  of  these  images  ;  nay,  I  am  not  even  thus  much,  but  only 
a  confused  image  of  images.  All  reality  is  converted  into  a  marvellous 
dream,  without  a  life  to  dream  of,  and  without  a  mind  to  dream  ;  into  a 
dream  made  up  only  of  a  dream  of  itself.  Perception  is  a  dream ;  thought  — 
the  source  of  all  the  existence  and  all  the  reality  which  I  imagine  to  myself  of 
my  existence,  of  my  power,  of  my  destination  —  is  the  dream  of  that  dream."] 
t  [The  term  Real  (realis),  though  always  importing  the  existent,  is  used  in 
various  significations  and  oppositions.     The  following  occur  to  me  : 

1.  As  denoting  ex/sfe?jce,  in  contrast  to  the  nomenclature  of  existence, — 
the  thing,  as  contradistinguished  from  its  name.  Thus  we  have  definitions 
and  divisions  real,  and  definitions  and  divisions  nominal  or  verbal. 

2.  As  expressing  the  existent  opposed  to  the  non-existent, — a  something  in 
contrast  to  a  nothing.  In  this  sense,  the  diminutions  of  existence,  to  which 
reality,  in  the  following  significations,  is  counterposed,  are  all  real.       • 

3.  As  denoting  material  or  external,  in  contrast  to  mental,  spiritual,  or  in- 
ternal, existence.  This  meaning  is  improper;  so,  therefore,  is  the  term 
Realism,  as  equivalent  to  Materialism,  in  the  nomenclature  of  some  recent 
philosophers. 

4.  As  synonymous  with  acfua/;  and  this  (a.  as  opposed  to />o<enf/a/,  b. ) 
as  opposed  to  possible  existence. 

5.  As  denoting  absolute  or  irrespective,  in  opposition  to  phenomenal  or  rela- 
tive, existence ;  in  other  words,  as  denoting  things  in  themselves,  and  out 
of  relation  to  all  else,  in  contrast  to  things  in  relation  to,  and  as  known  by, 
intelligences,  like  men,  who  know  only  under  the  conditions  of  plurality 
and  ditference.  In  this  sense,  which  is  rarely  employed  and  may  be  neg- 
lected, the  Real  is  only  another  term  for  the  Unconditioned  or  Absolute,  — 
TO  ovTug  uv. 

6.  As  indicating  existence  considered  as  a  subsistence  in  nature  {ens  extra 
animam,  ens  naturre),  it  stands  counter  to  an  existence  considered  as  a 
representation  in  thought.  In  this  sense,  reale,  in  the  language  of  the  older 
philosophy  (Scholastic,  Cartesian,  Gassendian),  as  applied  to  esse  or  ens,  is 
opposed  to  intentionale,  notionalc,  conceptibile,  imaginarium,  rationis,  cognitionis, 
in  anima,  in  inteUectu,  prout  cognitum,  ideale,  etc. ;  and  corresponds  with  a 
parte  rei,  as  opposed  to  a  parte  intellectus,  —  with  subjectivum,  as  opposed  to 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


201 


and  Unitarians  or  Monists,  according  as  they  are,  or  are 
not  contented  with  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  the  ulti- 
mate duphcity  of  subject  and  object  in  perception.  The  Dual- 
ists, of  whom  we  are  now  first  speaking,  are  distinguished  from 
the  Natural  DuaUsts  of  whom  we  formerly  spoke,  in  this;  — 
that  the  latter  establish  the  existence  of  the  two  worlds  of  mind 
and  matter  on  the  immediate  knowledge  we  possess  of  both 
series  of  phienomena,  —  a  knowledge  of  which  consciousness 
assures  us ;  whereas  the  foniier,  surrendering  the  veracity  of 
consciousness  to  our  immediate  knowledge  of  material  ph^nom- 

dbjectivum,— with proprium,principale,  and  fundamentale,  as  opposed  to  vica- 
„•„,„, —  with  materiale,  as  opposed  to  formale,  and  with  formale  in  seipso,  and 
entitativum,  as  opposed  to  representativum,  etc.  Under  this  head,  in  the 
vacillating  language  of  our  more  recent  philosophy,  real  approximates  to, 
but  is  hardly  convertible  with,  objective,  hi  contrast  to  subjective  in  the  signifi- 
cation there  prevalent. 

7.   In  close  connection  with  the  sixth  meaning,  real,  in  the  last  place,  de- 
notes an  identity  or  ditference  founded  on  the  conditions  of  the  existence 
of  a  thing  in  itself,  in  contrast  to  an  identity  or  difterence  founded  only  on 
the  relation  or  point  of  view  in  which  the  thing  may  be  regarded  by  the 
thinking  subject.     In  this  sense  it  is  opposed  to  logical  or  rational,  the  terms 
being  here  employed  in  a  peculiar  meaning.     Thus  a  thing  which,  realli/  [re) 
or  in  itself,  is  one  and  indivisible,  may  logicallg  [ratione),  by  the  mind,  be  con- 
sidered as  diverse  and  plural ;  and  vice  versa,  what  are  really  diverse  and 
plural,  may  logically  be  viewed  as  one  and  indivisible.     As  an  example  of 
the  former';  — the  sides  and  angles  of  a  triangle  (or  trilateral),  as  mutually 
con-elative— as  together  making  up  the  same  simple  figure  — and  as,  with- 
out destruction  of  that  figure,  actually  inseparable  from  it,  and  from  each 
other,  are  realhj  one;  but  inasmuch  as  they  have  peculiar  relations  which 
may, 'in  thought,  be  considered  severally  and  for  themselves,  they  are  logi- 
cally twoiolA.     In  like  manner,  take  apprehension  and  judgment.     These 
arc  really  one,  as  each  involves  the  other  (for  we  apprehend  only  as  we 
judge  something  to  be,  and  we  judge  only  as  we  apprehend  the  existence 
of  the  terms  compared),  and  as  together  they  constitute  a  single  indivisible 
act  of  cognition ;  but  they  are  logically  double,  inasmuch  as,  by  mental  ab- 
straction,''they  may  be  viewed  each  for  itself,  and  as  a  distinguishable  ele- 
ment of  thought.    As  an  example  of  the  latter;  individual  things,  as  John, 
James,  Ilicluu-d,  etc.,  are  really  (numerically)  different,  as  coexisting  in 
nature  only  under  the  condition  of  plurality ;  but,  as  resembling  objects 
constituting  a  single  class  or  notion  (man),  they  are  logically  considered 
(gcnerically  or  specifically)  identical  and  one.]  —Ass.  supp.  to  Reid. 


202 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


203 


ena,  and,  consequently,  our  immediate  knowledge  of  the  exist- 
ence of  matter,  still  endeavor,  by  various  hypotheses  and 
reasonings,  to  maintain  the  existence  of  an  unknown  external 
world.  As  we  denominate  those  who  maintain  a  dualism  as 
involved  in  the  fact  of  consciousness,  Natural  Dualists ;  so  we 
may  style  thost"  Dualists  who  deny  the  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness to  our  immediate  knowledge  of  aught  beyond  the  sphere 
of  mind.  Hypothetical  Dualists  or  Cosmothetic  Idealists. 

To  the  class  of  Cosmothetic  Idealists,  the  great  majority  of 
modern  philosophers  are  to  be  referred.  Denying  an  imme- 
diate or  intuitive  knowledge  of  the  external  reality,  whose 
existence  they  maintain,  they,  of  course,  hold  a  doctrine  of 
mediate  or  representative  perception;  and,  according  to  the 
various  modijications  of  that  doctrine,  they  are  again  subdi- 
vided into  those  who  view,  in  the  immediate  object  of  percep- 
tion, a  representative  entity  present  to  the  mind,  but  not  a  mere 
mental  modification,  and  into  those  who  hold  that  the  immediate 
object  is  only  a  representative  modification  of  the  mind  itself. 
It  is  not  always  easy  to  determine  to  which  of  these  classes 
some  philo^ophei-s  belong.  To  the  former,  or  class  holding  tlie 
cruder  hypothesis  of  representation,  certainly  belong  the  follow- 
ers of  Democritus  and  Epicurus,  those  Aristotelians  who  held 
the  vulgar  doctrine  of  species  (Aristotle  liimself  was  probably 
a  Natural  Duahst),  and  in  recent  times,  among  many  others, 
Malebranehe,  Berkeley,  Clarke,  Newton,  Abraham  Tucker, 
etc.  To  these  is  also,  but  problematically,  to  be  referred 
Locke.  To  the  second,  or  class  liolding  the  finer  hypothesis  of 
representation,  belong,  without  any  doubt,  many  of  the  Pla- 
tonists,  Leibnitz,  Arnauld,  Crousaz,  Condillac,  Kant,  etc. ;  and 
to  this  class  is  also,  probably,  to  be  referred  Descartes. 

Monists  subdivided. — The  philosophical  Unitarians  or  Mo- 
nists  reject  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  the  ultimate  dual- 
ity of  the  subject  and  object  in  perception,  but  they  arrive 
at  the  unity  of  these  in  different  ways.  Some  admit  the  tes- 
timony of  consciousness  to  the  equipoise  of  the  mental  and 
material  phaenomena,  and  do  not  attempt  to  reduce  either  mind 
to  matter,  or  matter  to  mind.     They  reject,  however,  the  evi- 


dence of  consciousness  to   their   antithesis   in  existence,  and 
maintain  that  mind  and  matter  are  only  phienomenal  modifica- 
tions of  the  same  common  substance.     This  is  the  doctrine  of 
Absolute  Identity,  —  a  doctrine  of  which  the  most  illustrious 
representatives  among  recent  philosophers  are  Schelling,  Hegel, 
and  Cousin.     Others,  again,  deny  the  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness to  the  equipoise  of  the  subject  and  object  as  coordinate 
and  cooriginal  elements ;  and  as  the  balance  is  inclined  in  favor 
of  the  one  relative  or   the   other,  two  opposite  schemes   of 
psychology  are  determined.     If  the  subject  be  taken  as  the 
original  "and  genetic,  and  the  object  evolved  from  it  as  its  pro- 
duct, the  theory  of  Idealism  is  established.     On  the  other  hand, 
if  the  object  be  assumed  as  the  original  and  genetic,  and  the 
subject  evolved  from  it  as  its  product,  the  theory  of  MateriaUsm 

is  established. 

Opposite  errors  often  counteract  each  other.  —  In  regard  to 
these  two  opposites  schemes  of  a  one-sided  philosophy,  I  would 
at  present  make  an  observation  to  which  it  may  be  afterwards 
necessary  to  recur ;  —  namely,  that  a  philosophical  system  is 
often  prevented  from  falling  into  absolute  Idealism  or  absolute 
Materialism,  and  held  in  a  kind  of  vacillating  equilibrium,  not 
in  consequence  of  being  based  on  the  fact  of  consciousness,  but 
from  the  circumstance,  that  its  Materialistic  tendency  in  one 
opinion  happens  to  be  counteracted  by  its  Idealistic  tendency  in 
another;  — two  opposite  errors,  m  short,   cooperating  to  the 
same  result  as  one   truth.     On  this  ground  is  to  be  explained, 
why  the  philosophy  of  Locke  and  Condillac  did  not  more  easily 
slide  into  Materialism.     Deriving  our  whole  knowledge,  medi- 
ately or  immediately,  from  the  senses,  this  philosophy  seemed 
destined  to  be  fairly  analyzed  into  a  scheme  of  MateriaUsm ; 
but  from  this  it  was  for  a  long  time  preserv^ed,  in  consequence 
of  involving  a  doctrine,  which,  on  the  other  hand,  if  not  coun- 
teracted, would  have  naturally  carried  it  over  into  IdeaUsm. 
This  was  the  doctrine  of  a  Representative  Perception.     The 
legitimate  issue  of  such  a  doctrine  is  now  admitted,  on  all 
hands,  to  be  absolute  Idealism  ;  and  the  only  ground  on  which 
it  has  been  latterly  thought  possible  to  avoid  this  conclusion,  — 


204 


VARIOUS  THEORIES   OF  PERCEPTION. 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


205 


I 


an  appeal  to  the  natural  belief  of  mankind  in  the  existence  of  an 
external  world,  —  is,  as  I  showed  you,  incompetent  to  the  Hy- 
pothetical Dualist  or  Cosmothetic  Idealist.  In  his  liands,  such 
an  appeal  is  self-contradictory.  For,  if  this  universal  beUef  be 
fairly  applied,  it  only  proves  the  existence  of  an  outer  world  by 
disproving  the  hypothesis  of  a  Representative  Perception. 

To  recapitulate  what  I  have  now  said:  [When  I  concen- 
trate my  attention  in  the  simplest  act  of  Perception,  I  return 
from  my  observation  with  the  most  irresistible  conviction  of 
two  facts,  or  rather  two  branches  of  the  same  fact,  —  that 
/  am,  —  and  that  something  different  from  me  exists.  In 
this  act,  I  am  conscious  of  myself  as  the  perceiving  subject, 
and  of  an  external  reality  as  the  object  perceived ;  and  I  am 
conscious  of  both  existences  in  the  same  indivisible  moment  of 
intuition.  The  knowledge  of  the  subject  does  not  precede  or 
follow  the  knowledge  of  the  object;  —  neither  determines, 
neither  is  determined  by,  the  other.  The  two  terms  of  correla- 
tion stand  in  mutual  counterpoise  and  equal  independence; 
they  are  given  as  connected  in  the  synthesis  of  knowledge,  but 
as  contrasted  in  the  antithesis  of  existence. 

Such  is  the  fact  of  Perception  revealed  in  consciousness,  and 
as  it  determines  mankind  in  general  in  their  etpial  assurance  ot 
the  reality  of  an  external  world,  and  of  the  existence  of  their 
own  minds.  Consciousness  declares  our  knowledge  of  material 
qualities  to  be  intuitive.  Nor  is  the  fact,  as  given,  denied  even 
by  those  who  disallow  its  truth.  So  clear  is  the  deliverance, 
that  even  the  philosophers  who  reject  an  intuitive  perception, 
find  it  impossible  not  to  admit,  that  their  doctrine  stands  decid- 
edly opposed  to  the  voice  of  consciousness  and  the  natural  con- 
viction of  mankind. 

According  as  the  truth  of  the  fact  of  consciousness  in  percep- 
tion is  entirely  accepted,  accepted  in  part,  or  wholly  rejected,  six 
possible  and  actual  systems  of  philosophy  result.  We  say  ex- 
plicitly—  the  truth  of  the  foct.  For  ihc  fact,  as  a  phenomenon 
of  consciousness,  cannot  be  doubted ;  since  to  doubt  that  we  are 
conscious  of  this  or  that,  is  impossible.  The  doubt,  as  itself  a 
phajnomenon  of  consciousness,  would  annihilate  itself. 


1.   If  the  veracity  of  consciousness  be  unconditionally  admit- 
ted^—if  the  intuitive  knowledge  of  mind  and  matter,  and  the 
consequent  reality  of  their  antithesis  be  taken  ae  truths,  to  be 
explained  if  possible,  but  in  themselves  to  be  held  as  paramount 
to  all  doubt,  the  doctrine  is  established  which  we  would  call  the 
scheme  of  Natural  Realism,  or  Natural  Dualism.  —  2.    If  the 
veracity  of  consciousness  be  allowed  to  the  equipoise  of  the 
object  and  subject  in  the  act,  but  rejected  as  to  the  reality  of 
their  antithesis,  the  system  of  Absolute  Identity  emerges,  which 
reduces  both  mind  and  matter  to  phcenomenal  modifications  of 
the  same  common  substance.  —  3  and  4.    If  the  testimony  of 
consciousness  be  refused  to  the  co-originahty  and  reciprocal 
independence  of  the  subject  and  object,  two  schemes  are  deter- 
mined, according  as  the  one  or  the  other  of  the  terms  is  placed 
as  the  original  and  genetic.     Is  the  object  educed  from  the  sub- 
ject, Idealism ;  is  the  subject  educed  from  the  object,  Mate- 
rialism, is  the  result.  —  5.   Again,  is  the  consciousness  itself 
recognized  only  as  a  phamomenon,  and  the  substantial  reality  of 
botli°subject  and  object  denied,  the  issue  is  Nihilism. 

6.   These  systems  are  all  conclusions  from  an  original  inter- 
pretation of  the  i^t  of  consciousness   in  Perception,  carried 
mtrepidly   forth   to    its '  legitimate   issue.      But   there   is   one 
scheme,  which,  violating  the  integrity  of  this  fact,  and,  with  the 
complete  Idealist,  regarding  the  object  of  consciousness  in  Per- 
ception as  only  a  modification  of  the  percipient  subject,  or,  at 
least,  a  phienomenon  numerically  different  from  the  object  it 
represents,  —  endeavors,  however,  to  stop  short  of  the  negation 
of  an  external  world,  the  reality  of  which,  and  the  knowledge  of 
whose  reality,  it  seeks  by  various  hypotheses  to  establish  and  ex- 
plain.    This  scheme,  —  which  we  would  term  Cosmothetic  Ideal- 
ism, Hyjyothetical  Realism,  or  Hypothetical  Dualism,  —  although 
the  most  inconsequent  of  all  systems,  has  been  embraced,  under 
various  forms,  by  the  immense  majority  of  philosophers. 

Of  these  systems.  Dr.  Brown  adheres  to  the  last.  He  holds 
that  the  mind  is  conscious,  or  immediately  cognizant,  of  nothing 
beyond  its  subjective  states ;  but  he  assumes  the  existence  of  an 
external  world  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  exclusively 

18 


206 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


207 


on  the  ground  of  our  irresistible  helief  in  its  unknown  reality. 
Independent  of  this  belief,  there  is  no  reasoning  on  which  the 
existence  of  matter  can  be  vindicated ;  the  logic  of  the  Ideahst 
he  admits  to  be  unassailable. 

It  will  be  proper,  first,  to  generalize  the  possible  forms  under 
which  the  hypothesis  of  a  Representative  Perception  can  be  real- 
ized ;  as  a  confusion  of  some  of  these  as  actually  held,  on  the 
part  both  of  Re  id  and  Brown,  has  tended  to  introduce  no  small 
confusion  into  the  discussion. 

The  Hypothetical  Realist  contends,  that  he  is  wholly  ignorant 
of  things  in  themselves,  and  that  these  are  known  to  him  only 
through  a  vicarious  phenomenon,  of  w^hich  he  is  conscious  in 
perception ; 

'  i2er«mque  ignarus,  Imagine  gaudct.' 

In  other  words,  that  the  object  immediately  known  and  repre- 
senting is  numerically  different  from  the  object  really  existing 
and  represented.  Now  this  vicarious  phienomenon,  or  imme- 
diate object,  must  either  be  numerically  different  from  the  per- 
cipient intellect,  or  a  modification  of  that  intellect  itself.  If  the 
latter,  it  must,  again,  either  be  a  modification  of  the  thinking 
substance,  wdth  a  transcendent  existence  beyond  the  act  of 
thought,  or  a  modification  identical  with  the  act  of  perception 

itself. 

All  possible  forms  of  the  representative  hypothesis  are  thus 
reduced  to  three,  and  these  have  all  been  actually  maintained. 

1.  The  representative  object  not  a  modification  of  mind, 

2.  The  representative  object  a  modification  of  mind,  depend- 
ent for  its  apprehension,  but  not  for  its  existence,  on  the  act  of 
consciousness, 

3.  The  representative  object  a  modification  of  mind,  non- 
existent  out  of  consciousness;  —  the  idea  and  its  perception 
only  different  relations  of  an  act  really  identical']  —  Discussions, 

It  would  be  turning  aside  from  my  present  purpose,  were  I 
to  attempt  any  articulate  refutation  of  these  various  systems. 
What  I  have  now  in  view  is  to  exhibit  to  you  how,  the  moment 
that  the  ftict  of  consciousness  in  its  absolute  integrity  is  surren- 

i 


dered,  philosophy  at  once  falls  from  unity  and  truth  into  variety 
and  error.  Li  reahty,  by  the  very  act  of  refusing  any  one 
datum  of  consciousness,  philosophy  invalidates  the  whole  credi- 
biUty  of  consciousness,  and  consciousness  ruined  as  an  instru- 
ment, philosophy  is  extinct.  Thus,  the  refusal  of  philosophers 
to  accept  the  fact  of  the  duality  of  consciousness  is  virtually  an 
act  of  philosophical  suicide.  Their  various  systems  are  now 
only  so  many  empty  spectres,  —  so  many  enchanted  corpses, 
which  the  first  exorcism  of  the  sceptic  reduces  to  their  natural 
nothingness.  The  mutual  polemic  of  these  systems  is  like  the 
warfare  of  shadows ;  as  the  heroes  in  Valhalla,  they  hew  each 
other  into  pieces,  only  in  a  twinkling  to  be  reunited,  and 
a^ain  to  amuse  themselves  m  other  bloodless  and  indecisive 

contests. 

Mode  of  intercourse  between  Mind  and  Body.  —  Having  now 
given  a  general  view  of  the  various  systems  of  philosophy,  in 
theu-  mutual  relations,  as  founded  on  the   great  fact  of  the 
Duahty  of  Consciousness,  I  proceed,  in  subordmation  to  this 
fact,  to  give  a  brief  account  of  certain  famous  hypotheses  wliich 
it  is  necessary  for  you  to  know,  —  hypotheses  proposed  in  solu- 
tion of  the  problem  of  how  intercourse  of  substances  so  oppo- 
site as  mind  and  body  could  be  accomplished.    These  hypotheses, 
of  course,  belong  exclusively  to  the  doctrine  of  Dualism ;  for  in 
the  Unitarian  system,  the  difficulty  is  resolved  by  the  annihila- 
tion of  the  opposition,  and  the  reduction  of  the  two  substances 
to  one.   The  hypotheses  I  allude  to  are  known  under  the  names, 
1°,  Of  the  system  of  Assistance  or  of  Occasional  Causes ;  2°, 
Of  the  Preestabhshed  Harmony ;  3°,  Of  the  Plastic  Medium ; 
and,  4°,  Of  Physical  Influence.     The  first  belongs  to  Descartes, 
De  la  Forge,  Malebranche,  and  the  Cartesians  in  general ;  the 
second  to  Leibnitz  and  Wolf,  though  not  universally  adopted  by 
their  school ;  the  third  ^vas  an  ancient  opinion  revived  in  mod- 
ern times  by  Cudworth  and  Le  Clerc  ;  the  fourth  is  the  common 
doctrine  of  the  Schoolmen,  and,  though  not  explicitly  enounced, 
that  generally  prevalent  at  present ;  —  among  modem  philoso- 
phers, it  has  been  expounded  with  great  perspicuity  by  Euler. 
We  shall  take  these  in  their  order. 


208 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


Occasional  Causes.  —  The  hypothesis  of  Divine  Assistance 
or  of  Occasional  Causes,  sets  out  from  the  apparent  impossi- 
bility, involved  in  Dualism,  of  any  actual  communication  be- 
tween a  spiritual  and  a  material  substance,  —  that  is,  between 
extended  and  non-extended  existences;  and  it  terminates  in 
the  assertion,  that  the  Deity,  on  occasion  of  the  affections  of 
matter  —  of  the  motions  of  the  bodily  organism,  excites  in  the 
mind  correspondent  thoughts  and  representations ;  and  on  occa- 
sion of  thoughts  or  representations  arising  in  the  mind,  that 
He,  in  like  manner,  produces  the  correspondent  movements  m 
the  body.  But  more  explicitly :  —  [as  Laromiguiere  remarks,] 
"  God,  according  to  the  advocates  of  this  scheme,  governs  the 
universe,  and  its  constituent  existences,  by  the  laws  according 
to  which  He  has  created  them ;  and  as  the  world  was  originally 
called  into  being  by  a  mere  fiat  of  the  divine  will,  so  it  owes  the 
continuance  of  its  existence  from  moment  to  moment  only  to  the 
unremitted  perseverance  of  the  same  vohtion.  Let  the.sustain- 
in"  energy  of  the  divine  will  cease,  but  for  an  instant,  and  the 
universe  lapses  into  nothingness.  The  existence  of  created 
things  is  thus  exclusively  maintained  by  a  creation,  as  it  were, 
incessantly  renewed.  God  is,  thus,  the  necessary  cause  of 
every  modification  of  body,  and  of  every  modification  of 
mind ;  and  his  efficiency  is  sufficient  to  afford  an  explanation 
of  the  union  and  intercourse  of  extended  and  unextended  sub- 
stances. 

"  External  objects  determine  certain  movements  in  our  bodily 
organs  of  sense,  and  these  movements  are,  by  the  ^nerves  and 
animal  spirits,  propagated  to  the  brain.  The  brain  does  not 
act  immediately  and  really  upon  the  soul ;  the  soul  has  no 
direct  cognizance  of  any  modification  of  the  brain ;  this  is  im- 
possible. It  is  God  himself,  who,  by  a  law  which  he  has  estab- 
■  lished,  when  movements  are  determined  in  the  brain,  produces 
analogous  modifications  in  the  conscious  mind.  In  like  manner, 
suppose  the  mind  has  a  volition  to  move  the  arm  ;  tliis  volition 
is,  of  itself,  inefficacious ;  but  God,  in  virtue  of  the  same  law, 
causes  the  answering  motion  in  our  limb.  The  body  is  not, 
therefore,  the  real  cause  of  the  mental  modifications ;  nor  the 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


209 


mind  the  real  cause  of  the  bodily  movements.     Nevertheless, 
as  the  soul  would  not  be  modified  without  the  antecedent  changes 
in  the  body,  nor  the  body  moved  without  the  antecedent  deter- 
mination of  the  soul,  —  these  changes  and  determinations  are 
in  a  certain  sort  necessary.     But  this  necessity  is  not  absolute ; 
it  is  only  hypothetical  or  conditional.     The  organic  changes, 
and  the  mental  determinations,  are  nothing  but  simple  condi- 
tions, and  not  real  causes  ;  in  short,  they  are  occasions  or  occa- 
sional  causes."     This  doctrine  of  occasional  causes  is  called, 
likewise,  the  hypothesis  of  Assistance,  as  supposing  the  imme- 
diate cooperation  or  intervention  of  the  Deity.     It  is  involved 
in  the  Cartesian  theory,  and,  therefore,  belongs  to  Descartes ; 
but  it  was  fully  evolved  by  De  la  Forge,  Malebranche,  and 
other  followers  of  Descartes.     It  may,  however,  be  traced  far 
higher.     Many  of  the  most  illustrious  philosophers  of  the  mid- 
dle ages  maintained  that  God  is  the  only  real  agent  in  the 
universe.    To  this  doctrine  Dr.  Reid  incUnes,  and  jt  is  expressly 
maintained  by  Mr.  Stewart. 

Pre'estahUshed  Harmony,  —  This  hypothesis  did  not  sa,tisfy 
Leibnitz.   "  He  reproaches  the  Cartesians,"  [says  Laromiguiere,] 
"  with  converting  the  universe  into  a  perpetual  miracle,  and  of 
explaining  the  natural,  by  a  supernatural,  order.     This  would 
annihilate  philosophy ;  for  philosophy  consists  in  the  investiga- 
tion and  discovery  of  the  second  causes  which  produce  the  vari- 
ous phenomena  of  the  universe.    You  degrade  the  Divinity,"  he 
subjoined  ;  —  "  you  make  him  act  like  a  watchmaker,  who,  hav- 
ing constructed  a  timepiece,  would  still  be  obliged  himself  to 
turn  the  liands  to  make  it  mark  the  hours.     A  skilful  mechanist 
would  so  frame  his  clock,  that  it  would  go  for  a  certain  period 
without  assistance  or  interposition.    So,  when  God  created  man, 
he  disposed  his  organs  and  faculties  in  such  a  manner  that  they 
are  able,  of  themselves,  to  execute  their  functions  and  maintain 
their  activity  from  birth  to  death." 

Leibnitz  thought  he  had  devised  a  more  philosophical  scheme, 
in  the  hypothesis  of  the  preestabhshed  or  predetermined  Har- 
mony. This  hypothesis  denies  all  real  connection,  not  only 
between  spiritual  and  material  substances,  but  between  sub- 

18* 


210 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


211 


III 


stances  in   general;    and  explains  their  apparent  communion 
from  a  previously  decreed  coiirrangement  of  the  Supreme  Be- 
in<r,  in  the  followin":  manner  :*  — ''  God,  before  creating  souls 
and  bodies,  knew  all  these  souls  and  botlies ;  he  knew  also  all 
possible   souls    and  bodies.     Now,  in    this  infinite  variety  of 
possible  souls  and  bodies,  it  w^as  necessary  that  there  should  be 
Bouls  whose   series  of  perceptions  and   determinations   would 
correspond  to  the  series  of  movements  which  some  of  these 
possible  bodies  would  execute ;  for  in   an  infinite  number  of 
souls,  and  in  an  infinite  number  of  bodies,  there  would  be  found 
all  possible  combinations.     Now,  suppose  that,  out  of  a  soul 
whose  series  of  modifications  corresponded  exactly  to  the  series 
of  modifications  which  a  certain  body  was  destined  to  perform, 
and  of  this  body  whose  successive  movements  were  correspond- 
ent to  the  successive  modifications  of  this  soul,  God  should 
make  a  man  ;  —  it  is  evident,  that  between  the  two  substances 
which  constitute  this  man,  there  would  subsist  the  most  perfect 
harmony,     if  is,  thus,  no  longer  necessary  to  devise  theories  to 
account  for  the  reciprocal  intercourse  of  the  material  and  the 
spiritual  substances.     These  have  no  communication,  no  mutual 
influence.     The  soul  passes  from  one  state,  from  one  perception, 
to  another,  by  virtue  of  its  own  nature.     The  body  executes  the 
series  of  its  movements  without  any  participation  or  interference 
of  the  soul  in  these.     The  soul  and  body  are  like  two  clocks 
accurately  regulated,  which  point  to  the  same  hour  and  minute, 
although  the  spring  which  gives  motion  to  the  one  is  not  the 
spring  which  gives  motion  to  the  other.     Thus  the  harmony 
which  appears  to  combine  the  soul  and  body  is,  however,  inde- 
pendent of  any  reciprocal   action.     This  hai'mony  was  estab- 
lished before  the  creation  of  man ;  and  hence  it  is  called  the 
Preestablished  or  predetermined  Harmony." 

It  is  needless  to  Jittempt  a  refutation  of  this  hypothesis,  which 
its  author  himself  probably  regarded  more  as  a  specimen  of 
ingenuity  than  as  a  serious  doctrine. 

Plastic  Medium.  —  The  third  hypothesis  is  that  of  a  Plastic 

*  [The  following  expositions  of  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  hypotheses 
are  all  translated  by  Hamilton  from  Laromiguiere.] — Am.  Ed. 


Medium  between  the  soul  and  body.  "  This  medium  partici- 
pates of  the  two  natures ;  it  is  partly  material,  partly  spiritual. 
As  material,  it  can  be  acted  on  by  the  body ;  and  as  spiritual, 
it  can  act  upon  the  mind.  It  is  the  middle  term  of  a  continu- 
ous proportion.  It  is  a  bridge  thrown  over  the  abyss  which 
separates  matter  from  spirit.  This  hypothesis  is  too  absurd  for 
refutation ;  it  annihilates  itself.  Between  an  extended  and 
unextended  substance,  there  can  be  no  middle  existence ;  [these 
being  not  simply  different  in  degree,  but  contradictory.]  If  the 
medium  be  neither  body  nor  soul,  it  is  a  chimera ;  if  it  is  at 
once  body  and  soul,  it  is  contradictory ;  or  if,  to  avoid  the  con- 
tradiction, it  is  said  to  be,  like  us,  the  union  of  soul  and  body, 
it  is  itself  in  want  of  a  medium." 

Physical  Influence.  —  The  fourth  hypothesis  is  that  of  Physi- 
cal Influence.  "On  this  doctrine,  external  objects  affect  our 
senses,  and  the  organic  motion  they  determine  is  communicated 
to  the  brahi.  The  brain  acts  upon  the  soul,  and  the  soul  has  an 
idea,  —  a  perception.  The  mind,  thus  possessed  of  a  perception 
or  idea,  is  affected  for  good  or  ill.  If  it  suffers,  it  seeks  to  be 
relie\;ed  of  pain.  It  acts  in  its  turn  upon  the  brain,  in  wkich 
it  causes  a  movement  in  the  nervous  system  ;  the  nervous  sys- 
tem causes  a  muscular  motion  in  the  limbs,  —  a  motion  directed 
to  remove  or  avoid  the  object  which  occasions  the  sensation  of 
pain. 

"  The  brain  is  the  seat  of  the  soul,  and,  on  this  hypothesis, 
the  soul  has  been  compared  to  a  spider  seated  in  the  centre  of 
its  web.  The  moment  the  least  agitation  is  caused  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  this  web,  the  insect  is  advertised  and  put  upon  the 
watch.  In  like  manner,  the  mind  situated  in  the  brain  has  a 
point  on  which  all  the  nervous  filaments  converge  ;  it  is  informed 
of  what  passes  at  the  different  parts  of  the  body  ;  and  forthwith 
it  takes  its  measures  accordingly.  The  body  thus  acts  with  a 
real  efficiency  on  the  mind,  and  the  mind  acts  with  a  real  effi- 
ciency upon  the  body.  This  action  or  influence  being  real,  — 
physical,  in  the  course  of  nature,  —  the  body  exerts  a  physical 
influence  upon  the  soul,  the  soul  a  physical  influence  upon  the 
body. 


212 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


213 


li 


«  This  system  is  simple,  but  it  affords  us  no  help  in  explain- 
intr  the  mysterious  union  of  an  extended  and  an  unextended 
substance. 

*  Tangere  enim  et  tangi  nisi  corpus  nulla  potest  res.' 

Nothing  can  touch  and  be  touched  but  what  is  extended ;  and 
if  the  soul  be  unextended,  it  can  have  no  connection  by  touch 
with  the  body,  and  the  physical  influence  is  inconceivable  or 
contradictory." 

Historical  order  of  these  hypotheses. — If  we  consider  these 
hypotheses  in  relation  to  their  historical  manifestation,  —  the 
doctrine  of  Physical  Influence  would  stand  first ;  for  this  doc- 
trine, which  was  only  formally  developed  into  system  by  the 
later  Peripatetics,  was  that  prevalent  in  the  earlier  schools  of 
Greece.     The  Aristotelians,  —  who  held  that  the  soul  was  the 
substantial  form,  the  vital  principle,  of  the  body,  that  the  soul 
was  all  in  the  whole  and  all  in  every  part  of  the  body,  — natu- 
rally allowed  a  reciprocal  influence  of  these.     By  influence  (in 
Latin,  influxus),  you  are  to  understand  the  relation  of  a  cause 
to  its  effect ;  and  the  term,  now  adopted  into  every  vulgar  lan- 
guage of  Europe,  was  brought  into  use  principally  by  the  au- 
thority of  Suarez,  a  Spanish  Jesuit,  who  flourished  at  the  close 
of  the  sixteenth  and  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  centuries, 
and  one  of  the  most  illustrious  metaphysicians  of  modem  times. 
By  him  a  cause  is  defined,  principium  per  se  influens  esse  in 
aUud.     This  definition,  however,  and  the  use  of  the  metaphysi- 
cal term  influence,  (for  it  is  nothing  more,)  are  not,  as  is  sup- 
posed, original  with  him.     They  are  to  be  found  in  the  pseudo- 
Aristotelic  treatise,  De  Causis. 

The  second  hypothesis  in  chronological  order  is  that  of  the 
Plastic  Medium.  It  is  to  be  traced  to  Plato.  That  philosopher, 
in  illustrating  the  relations  of  the  two  constituents  of  man, 
says  that  the  soul  is  in  the  body  like  a  sailor  in  a  ship ;  that  the 
soul  employs  the  body  as  its  instrument ;  but  that  the  energy, 
or  life  and  sense,  of  the  body,  is  the  manifestation  of  a  different 
substance,  —  of  a  substance  which  holds  a  kind  of  intermediate 
existence  between  mind  and  matter.     This  conjecture,  which 


Plato  only  obscurely  hinted  at,  was  elaborated  with  pec^jiliar 
partiality  by  his  followers  of  the  Alexandrian  school ;  and,  in 
their  psychology,  the  oiog,  or  vehicle  of  the  soul,  the  medium 
through  which  it  is  united  to  the  body,  is  a  prominent  element 
and  distinctive  principle.  To  this  opinion  St.  Austin,  among 
other  Christian  fathers,  was  inclined ;  and,  in  modern  times,  it 
has  been  revived  and  modified  by  Gassendi,  Cudworth,  and  Le 

Clerc. 

Descartes  agrees  with  the  Platonists,  in  opposition  to  the 
Aristotelians,  that  the  soul  is  not  the  substantial  form  of  the 
body,  but  is  connected  with  it  only  at  a  single  point  in  the  brain, 

—  namely,  the  pineal  gland.  The  pineal  gland,  he  supposes,  is 
the  central  point  at  which  the  organic  movements  of  the  body 
terminate,  when  conveying  to  the  mind  the  determinations  to 
voluntary  motion.  But  Descartes  did  not  allow,  Uke  the  Pla- 
tonists, any  intermediate  or  connecting  substance.  The  nature 
of  the  connection  he  himself  does  not  very  explicitly  state ;  — 
but  his  disciples  have  evolved  the  hypothesis,  already  explained, 
of  Occassional  Causes,  in  which  God  is  the  connecting  principle, 

—  an  hypothesis  at  least  implicitly  contained  in  his  philosophy. 
Finally,  Leibnitz  and  Wolf  agree  with  the  Cartesians,  that 

there  is  no  real,  but  only  an  apparent,  intercourse  between  mind 
and  body.  To  explain  this  apparent  intercourse  they  do  not, 
however,  resort  to  the  continual  assistance  or  interposition  of 
the  Deity,  but  have  recourse  to  the  supposition  of  a  harmony 
between  mind  and  body,  established  before  the  creation   of 

either. 

These  hypotheses  unphilosophical.  —  M\  these  theories  are 
unphilosophical,  because  they  all  attempt  to  establish  sometliing 
beyond  the  sphere  of  observation,  and,  consequently,  beyond 
the  sphere  of  genuine  philosophy ;  and  because  they  are  either, 
hke  the  Cartesian  and  Leibnitzian  theories,  contradictions  of 
the  fact  of  consciousness ;  or,  like  the  two  other  hypotheses,  at 
variance  with  the  fact  which  they  suppose.  What  St.  Austin 
so  admirably  says  of  the  substance,  either  of  mind  or  of  body, 
—  "Materiam  spiritumque  cognoscendo  ignorari,  et  ignorando 
cognosci,"  —  I  would  exhort  you  to  adopt  as  your  opinion  in  re- 


214 


INTERCOURSE  OF  MIND  AND  BODY. 


gard  to  the  union  of  these  two  existences.  In  short,  in  the 
words  of  Pascal,  "  Man  is  to  himself  the  mightiest  prodigy  of 
nature  ;  for  he  is  unable  to  conceive  what  is  body,  stiU  less  what 
is  mind,  but  least  of  aU,  is  he  able  to  conceive  how  a  body  can 
be  united  to  a  mind  ;  yet  this  is  his  proper  being."  A  content- 
ed ignorance  is,  indeed,  wiser  than  a  presumptuous  knowledge ; 
but  this  is  a  lesson  which  seems  the  last  that  philosophers  are 
willing  to  learn.  In  the  words  of  one  of  the  acutest  modern 
thinkers  —  "Magna,  immo  maxima,  pars  sapientioe  est,  quaedam 
aequo  animo  nescire  velle." 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


GENERAL    PH.ENOMENA    OF    CONSCIOUSNESS  —  ARE   WE 
ALWAYS   CONSCIOUSLY   ACTIVE? 

The  second  General  Fact  of  Consciousness  which  we  shall 
consider,  and  out  of  which  several  questions  of  great  interest 
arise, -is  the  fact,  or  correlative  facts,  of  the  Activity  and 
Passivity  of  Mind. 

Activity  and  Passivity  always  conjoined  in  mind.  —  There  is 
no  pure  activity,  no  pure  passivity  in  creation.  All  things  in 
the  universe  of  nature  are  reciprocally  in  a  state  of  continual 
action  and  counter-action ;  they  are  always-  active  and  passive 
at  once.  God  alone  must  be  thought  of  as  being  active  with- 
out any  mixture  of  passivity,  as  his  activity  is  subjected  to  no 
Umitation.  But  precisely  because  it  is  unlimited,  is  it  for  us 
wholly  incomprehensible. 

Activity  and  passivity  are  not,  therefore,  in  the  manifesta- 
tions of  mind,  distinct  and  independent  phainomena.  This  is  a 
great,  though  a  common,  error.  They  are  always  conjoined. 
There  is  no  operation  of  mind  which  is  purely  active ;  no  affec- 
tion which  is  purely  passive.  In  every  mental  modification, 
action  and  passion  are  the  two  necessary  elements  or  factors  of 
which  it  is  composed.  But  though  both  are  always  present, 
each  is  not,  however,  always  present  in  equal  quantity.  Some- 
times the  one  constituent  preponderates,  sometimes  the  other ; 
and  it  is  from  the  preponderance  of  the  active  element  in  some 
modifications,  of  the  passive  element  in  others,  that  we  distin- 
guish these  modifications  by  different  names,  and  consider  them 
as  activities  or  passivities  according  as  they  approximate  to  one 

or  other  of  the  two  factors.     Thus  faculty,  operation,  energy, 

(215) 


216  GENEEAL  PHENOMENA  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

are  words  that  we  employ  to  designate  the  manifestations  in 
which  activity  is  predominant.  Faculty  denotes  an  active 
power;  action,  operation,  energy,  denote  its  present  exertion. 
On  the  other  hand,  capacity  expresses  a  passive  power ;  affec- 
tion, passion,  express  a  present  suffering.  The  terms,  mode, 
modification,  state,  may  be'  used  indiiferently  to  signify  both 
phenomena;  but  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  these,  espe- 
cially the  word  state,  are  now  closely  associated  with  the  pas- 
sivity of  mind,  which  they,  therefore,  tend  rather  to  suggest. 
The  passivity  of  mind  is  expressed  by  another  term,  receptivity; 
for  passivity  is  only  the  condition,  the  necessary  antecedent  of 
activity,  only  the  property  possessed  by  the  mind  of  standing  in 
relation  to  certain  foreign  causes,  —  of  receiving  from  them 
impressions,  determinations  to  act. 

No  consciousness  of  passivity.  —  It  is  to  be  observed,  that  we 
are  never  directly  conscious  of  passivity.  Consciousness  only 
commences  with,  is  only  cognizant  of,  the  reaction  consequent 
upon  the  foreign  determination  to  act ;  and  this  reaction  is  not 
itself  passive.  In  so  far,  therefore,  as  we  are  conscious,  we  are 
active ;  whether  there  be  a  mental  activity  of  which  we  are  not 
conscious,  is  another  question. 

There  are  certain  arduous  problems  comiected  with  the 
activity  of  mind,  which  will  be  more  appropriately  considered 
[hereafter].  At  present,  I  shall  only  treat  of  those  questions 
which  are  conversant  about  the  immediate  phjenomena  of 
activity.  Of  these,  the  first  that  I  shall  consider  is  one  of  con- 
siderable interest,  and  which,  though  variously  determined  by 
different  philosophers,  does  not  seem  to  lie  beyond  the  sphere 
of  observation.  I  allude  to  the  question.  Whether  we  are 
always  consciously  active  ? 

Are  we  always  consciously  active  ?  —  It  is  evident  that  this 
question  is  not  convertible  with  the  question.  Have  we  always 
a  memory  of  our  consciousness  ?  —  for  the  latter  problem  must 
be  at  once  answered  in  the  negative.  It  is  also  evident,  that 
we  must  exclude  the  consideration  of  those  states  in  which  the 
mind  is  apparently  without  consciousness,  but  in  regard  to 
which,  in  reality,  we  can  obtain  no  information  from  experi- 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


217 


ment.     Concerning  these,  we  must  be  contented  to  remain  in 
ifrnorance ;  at  least,  only  to  extend  to  them  the  analogical  con- 
clusions which  our  observations  on  those  within  the  sphere  of 
experiment  warrant  us  inferring.     Our  question,  as  one  of  pos- 
sible solution,  must,  therefore,  be  limited  to  the  states  of  sleep 
and  somnambulism,  to  the  exclusion  of  those  states  of  insensi- 
bility which  we  cannot  terminate  suddenly  at  will.     It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  observe,  that  with  the  nature  of  sleep  and  som- 
nambulism, as  psychological  phtenomena,  we  have  at  present 
nothing  to  do ;  our  consideration  is  now  strictly  limited  to  the 
inquiry,  Whether  the  mind,  in  as  far  as  we  can  make  it  matter 
of  observation,  is  always  in  a  state  of  conscious  activity.     The 
general  problem  in  regard  to  the  ceaseless  activity  of  the  mind 
has  been  one  agitated  from  very  ancient  times,  but  it  has  also 
been  one  on  which  philosophers  have  pronounced  less  on  grounds 
of  experience  than  of  theory.     Plato  and  the  Platonists  were 
unanimous  in  maintaining  the  continual   energy  of   intellect. 
The  opinion  of  Aristotle  appears  doubtful,  and  passages  may 
he  quoted  from  his  works  in  favor  of  either  alternative.     The 
Aristotelians,  in  general,  were  opposed,  but  a  considerable  num- 
ber were  favorable,  to  the   Platonic  doctrine.     The  question, 
however,  obtained  its  principal  importance  in  the  philosophy  of 
Descartes.     That  philosopher  made  the  essence,  the  very  exist- 
ence, of  the  soul  to  consist  in  actual  thought,  under  which  he 
included  even  the  desires  and  feelings ;  and  thought  he  defined 
all  of  which  we  are  conscious.     The  assertion,  therefore,  of 
Descartes,  that  the  mind  always  thinks,  is,  in  his  employment 
of  languasre,  tantamount   to   the   assertion   that   the   mind  is 
always  conscious. 

Locke's  argument  for  the  negative.  —  That  the  mind  is 
always  conscious,  though  a  fundamental  position  of  the  Carte- 
sian doctrine,  was  rather  assumed  than  proved  by  an  appeal  to 
fact  and  experience.  All  is  theoretical  in  Descartes;  all  is 
theoretical  in  his  disciples.  Even  Malebranche  assumes  our 
consciousness  in  sleep,  and  explains  our  oblivion  only  by  a 
mechanical  hypothesis.  It  was,  therefore,  easy  for  Locke  to 
deny  the  truth  of  the  Cartesian  opinion,  and  to  give  a  strong 

19 


218 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


semblance   of  probability  to  his  own  doctrine  by  its  apparent 
conformity  with  the   phaenomena.     Omitting  a  good   deal  of 
wliat  is  either  irrelevant  to  the  general  question,  or  what  is  now 
admitted  to  be  false,  as  founded  on  his  erroneous  doctrine  of 
personal  identity,  the  following  is  the  sum  of  Locke's  argument 
upon  the   point.     "  We   know  certainly  by  experience,"   [he 
says,]  "  that  we  sometimes  think,  and  thence  draw  this  infalli])le 
consequence,  that  there  is  something  in  us  that  has  a  power  to 
think :  but  whether  that  substance  perpetually  thinks  or  no,  we 
can  be  no  further  assured  than  experience  informs  us.     For  to 
say  that  actually  thinking  is  essential  to  the  soul,  and  insepara- 
ble from  it,  is  to  beg  what  is  in  question,  and  not  to  prove  it  by 
reason ;  which   is   necessary   to  be   done,   if  it  be  not  a  self- 
evident  proposition.     But  whether  this,  '  that  the  soul  always 
thinks,'  be  a  self-evident  proposition,  that  everybody  assents  to 
at  first  hearing,  I  appeal  to  mankind.     It  is  doubted  whether  I 
thought  all  last  night  or  no ;  the  question  being  about  a  matter 
of  fact,  it  is  begging  it  to  bring  as  a  proof  for  it  an  hypothesis 
which  is  the  very  thing  in   dispute ;  by  which  way  one  may 
prove  any  thing."  .  ..."  It  will,  perhaps,  be  said,  that  '  the 
soul  thinks  even  in  the  soundest  sleep,  but  the  memory  retains 
it  not.'     That  tire  soul  in  a  sleeping  man  should  be  this  moment 
busy  a-thinking,  and  the  next  moment  in  a  waking  man  not 
remember  nor  be  able  to  recollect  one  jot  of  all  those  thoughts, 
is  very  hard  to  be  conceived,  and  would  need  some  better  proof 
than  bare   assertion   to  make   it  be  believed.     For  who  can, 
w  ithout  any  more  ado  but  being  barely  told  so,  imagine  that  the 
greatest  part  of  men  do,  during  all  their  lives,  for  several  hours 
every  day,  think  of  something  which,  if  they  were  asked  even 
in  the  middle  of  these  thoughts,  they  could  remember  nothing 
at  all  of?     ^lost  men,  I  think,  pass  a  great  part  of  their  sleep 
without  di-eaming.     I  once  knew  a  man  that  was  bred  a  scholar 
and  had  no  bad  memory,  who  told  me  he  had  never  dreamed  in 
his  life,  till  he  had  that  fever  he  was  then  newly  recovered  of, 
which  was  about  the  five  or  six  and  twentieth  year  of  his  age. 
I  suppose  the  world  aifords  more  such  instances ;  at  least  every 
one's  acquaintance  will  furnish  him  with  examples  enough  of 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


219 


such  as  pass  most  of  their  nights  without  dreaming."  .... 
And  again,  "  If  they  say  that  a  man  is  always  conscious  to 
himself  of  thinking ;  I  ask  how  they  know  it  ?  '  Consciousness 
is  the  perception  of  what  passes  in  a  man's  own  mind.  Can 
another  man  perceive  that  I  am  conscious  of  any  thing,  when  I 
perceive  it  not  myself?'  No  man's  knowledge  here  can  go 
beyond  his  experience.  Wake  a  man  out  of  a  sound  sleep, 
and  ask  him  what  he  was  that  moment  thinking  on.  If  he 
himself  be  conscious  of  nothing  he  then  thought  on,  he  must  be 
a  notable  diviner  of  thoughts  that  can  assure  him  that  he  w^as 
thinking :  may  he  not  with  more  reason  assure  him  he  was  not 
asleep  ?  This  is  something  beyond  philosophy ;  and  it  cannot 
be  less  than  revelation  that  discovers  to  another  thoughts  in  my 
mind  when  I  can  find  none  there  myself;  and  they  must  needs 
have  a  penetrating  sight  who  can  certainly  see  what  I  think 
when  I  cannot  perceive  it  myself,  and  when  I  declare  that  I  do 
not.  This  some  may  think  to  be  a  step  beyond  the  Rosicru- 
cians,  it  being  easier  to  make  one's  self  invisible  to  others,  than 
to  make  another's  thoughts  visible  to  one  which  are  not  visible 
to  himself.  But  it  is  but  defining  the  soul  to  be  '  a  substance 
that  always  thinks,'  and  the  business  is  done." 

Loche's  view  opposed  by  Leibnitz.  —  This  decision  of  Locke 
was  rejected  by  Leibnitz.  He  observes,  in  reply  to  the  suppo- 
sition that  continual  consciousness  is  an  attribute  of  Him  "  who 
neither  slumbereth  nor  sleepeth,"  '  that  this  affords  no  inference 
that  in  sleep  we  are  wholly  without  perception.'  To  the  re- 
mark, « that  it  is  ditficult  to  conceive,  that  a  being  can  think 
and  not  be  conscious  of  thought,"  he  replies,  '  that  in  this  lies 
the  whole  knot  and  difficulty  of  the  matter.  But  this  is  not  in- 
soluble.' "  We  must  observe,"  he  says,  "  that  we  think  of  a 
multitude  of  things  at  once,  but  take  heed  only  of  those  thoughts 
that  are  the  more  prominent.  Nor  could  it  be  otherwise.  For 
were  we  to  take  heed  of  every  thing,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
attend  to  an  infinity  of  matters  at  the  same  moment,  all  of 
which  make  an  effectual  impression  on  the  senses.  Nay,  I 
assert  that  there  remains  always  something  of  all  our  past 
thoughts,  — that  none  is  ever  entirely  effaced.     Now  when  we 


220 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


221 


sleep  without  dreaming,  and  when  stunned  by  a  blow  or  other 
accident,  there  are  formed  in  us  an  infinity  of  small  confused 
perceptions."  And  again  he  remarks :  "  That  even  when  we 
sleep  without  dreaming,  there  is  always  some  feeble  perception. 
The  act  of  awakening,  indeed,  shows  this :  and  the  more  ea^^ily 
we  are  roused,  the  clearer  is  the  perception  we  have  of  what 
passes  without,  although  this  perception  is  not  always  strong 
enough  to  cause  us  to  awake." 

Now,  in  all  this  it  will  be  observed,  that  Leibnitz  does  not 
precisely  answer  the  question  we  have  mooted.  He  maintains 
that  the  mind  is  never  without  perceptions,  but,  as  he  holds  that 
perceptions  exist  without  consciousness,  he  cannot,  though  he 
opposes  Locke,  be  considered  as  affirming  that  the  mind  is 
never  without  consciousness  during  sleep,  — in  short,  does  al- 
ways dream. 

But  if  Leibnitz  cannot  be  adduced  as  categorically  asserting 
that  there  is  no  sleep  without  its  dream,  this  cannot  be  said  of 
Kant.     That  great  thinker  distinctly  maintains  that  we  always 
dream  when  asleep ;  that  to  cease  to  dream  would  be  to  cease 
to  live ;  and  that  those  who  fiincy  they  have  not  dreamt  have 
only  forgotten  their  dream.     This   is  aU  that  the  manual  of 
Anthropology,  published  by  himself,  contains  upon  the  question ; 
but  in  a  manuscript  in  my  possession,  which  bears  to  be  a  work 
of  Kant,  but  is   probably  only  a  compilation  from  notes  taken 
at  his  lectures  on  Anthropology,  it  is  further  stated  that  we  can 
dream  more  in  a  minute  than  we  can  act  during  a  day,  and  that 
the  great  rapidity  of  the  train  of  thought  in  sleep,  is  one  of  the 
principal  causes  why  we  do  not  always  recollect  what  we  dream. 
He  elsewhere  also  observes,  that  the  cessation  of  a  force  to  act 
is  tantamount  to  its  cessation  to  be. 

The  wakefulness  of  mind  proved  from  sotnnambidism.  — 
Though  the  determination  of  this  question  is  one  that  seems  not 
extremely  difficult,  we  find  it  dealt  with  by  philosophers,  on  the 
one  side  and  the  other,  rather  by  hypothesis  than  by  experi- 
ment ;  at  least,  we  have,  with  one  partial  exception,  which  I 
am  soon  to  quote  to  you,  no  observations  sufficiently  accurate 
and  detailed  to  warrant  us  in   establishing  more  than  a  very 


doubtful  conclusion.     I  have  myself  at  diff'erent  times  turned 
my  attention  to  the  point,  and,  as  far  as  my  observations  go, 
they  certainly  tend  to  prove  that,  during   sleep,  the  mind  is 
never  either  inactive  or  wholly  unconscious  of  its  activity.     As 
to  the  objection  of  Locke  and  others,  that,  as  we  have  often  no 
recollection  of  dreaming,  we  have,  therefore,  never  dreamt,  it  is 
sufficient  to  say  that  the  assumption  in  this  argument  —  that 
consciousness,  and  the  recollection  of  consciousness,  are  conver- 
tible—is disproved  in  the  most  emphatic  manner  by  experience. 
You  have  all  heard  of  the  ph?enomenon  of  somnambulism.     Li 
this  remarkable  state,  the  various  mental  facuhies  are  usually 
in  a  higher  degree  of  power  than  in  the  natural.     The  patient 
has  recollections  of  what  he  has  wholly  forgotten.     He  speaks 
languages  of  which,  when  awake,  he  remembers  not  a  word. 
K  he  use  a  vulgar  dialect  when  out  of  this  state,  in  it  he  em- 
ploys only  a  correct  and  elegant  phraseology.     The  imagination, 
the  sense  of  propriety,  and  the  facuUy  of  reasoning,  are  all  in 
general  exalted.     The  bodily  powers  are  in  high  activity,  and 
under  the  complete  control  of  the  will ;  and,  it  is  well  known, 
persons  in  this  state  have  frequently  performed  feats,  of  which, 
when  out  of  it,  they  would  not  even  have  imagined  the  possibil- 
ity.    And  what  is  even  more  remarkable,  the  difference  of  the 
facuhies  in  the  two  states  seems  not  confined  merely  to  a  diflfer- 
ence  in  degree.     For  it  happens,  for  example,  that  a  person 
who  has  no  ear  for  music  when  awake,  shall,  in  his  somnambulic 
crisis,  sing  with  the  utmost  correctness  and  with  full  enjoyment 
of  his  performance.     Under   this  affection  persons   sometimes 
five  half  their  lifetime,  alternating  between  the  normal  and  ab- 
normal states,  and  performing  the  ordinary  functions  of  life 
indifferently  in  both,  with  this  distinction,  that  if  the  patient  be 
dull  and  doltish  when  he  is  said  to  be  awake,  he  is  comparatively 
alert  and  inteUigent  when  nominally  asleep.     I  am  in  possession 
of  three  works,  written  during  the  crisis  by  tliree  different  som- 
nambulists.    Now  it  is  evident  that  consciousness,  and  an  ex- 
alted consciousness,  must  be  allowed  in  somnambuHsm.     This 
cannot  possibly  be  denied ;  —  but  mark  what  follows.     It  is  the 
peculiarity  of  somnambulism,  —  it  is  the  differential  quahty  by 

19* 


222 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


223 


which  that  state  is  contradistinguished  from  the  state  of  dream- 
ing,—that  we  have  no  recollection,  when  we  awake,  of  what 
has  occurred  during  its  continuance.  Consciousness  is  thus  cut 
in  two ;  memory  does  not  connect  the  train  of  consciousness  in 
the  one  state  with  the  train  of  consciousness  in  the  other.  When 
the  patient  again  relapses  into  the  state  of  somnambulism,  he 
again  remembers  all  that  had  occurred  during  every  former 
aTternative  of  that  state  ;  but  he  not  only  remembers  this,  he 
recalls  also  the  events  of  his  normal  existence ;  so  that,  whereas 
the  patient  in  his  somnambulic  crisis  has  a  memory  of  his 
whole  hfe,  in  his  waking  intervals  he  has  a  memory  only  of  half 

his  life. 

Breaming  possible  without  memory. — At  the  time  of  Locke, 
the  phainomena  of  somnambulism  had  been  very  little  studied ; 
nay,  so  great  is  the  ignorance  that  prevails  in  regard  to  its  na- 
ture even  now,  that  you  will  find  this,  its  distinctive  character, 
wholly  unnoticed  in  the  best  works  upon  the  subject.     But  this 
distinction,  you  observe,  is  incompetent  always  to  discriminate 
the  states  of  di-eaming  and  somnambulism.     It  may  be  true 
that,  if  we  recollect  our  visions  during  sleep,  this  recollection 
excludes  somnambulism ;  but  the  want  of  memory  by  no  means 
proves  that  the  visions  we  are  known  by  others  to  have  had, 
were  not  common  dreams.     The  phenomena,  indeed,  do  not 
always  enable  us  to  discriminate  the  two  states.     Somnambu- 
lism may  exist  in  many  different  degrees ;   the  sleep-walking 
from  which  it  takes  its  name  is  only  one  of  its  higher  phainom- 
ena, and  one  comparatively  rare.     In  general,  the  subject  of 
this  affection  does  not  leave  his  bed,  and  it  is  then  frequently 
impossible  to  say,  whether  the  manifestations  exhibited  are  the 
phcenomena  of  somnambulism  or  of  dreaming.     Talking  during 
sleep,  for  example,  may  be  a  symptom  of  either ;  and  it  is  often 
only  from  our  general  knowledge  of  the  habits  and  predisposi- 
tions  of  the  sleeper,  that  we  are  warranted  in  referring  this 
effect  to  the  one  and  not  to  the  other  class  of  phaenomena.     We 
have,  however,  abundant  evidence  to  prove  that  forgetfulness 
is  not  a  decisive  criterion  of  somnambulism.     Persons  whom 
there  is  no  reason  to  suspect  of  tliis  affection  often  manifest 


during  sleep  the  strongest  indications  of  dreaming,  and  yet, 
when  they  awaken  in  the  morning,  retain  no  memory  of  what 
they  may  have  done  or  said  during  the  night.  Locke's  argu- 
ment, that  because  we  do  not  always  remember  our  conscious- 
ness during  sleep,  we  have  not,  therefore,  been  always  conscious, 
is  thus,  on  the  ground  of  fact  and  analogy,  disproved. 

Results  of  personal  experience.  —  But  this  is  not  all.  We 
can  not  only  show  that  the  fact  of  the  mind  remaining  conscious 
during  sleep  is  possible,  is  even  probable,  we  can  also  show,  by 
an  articulate  experience,  that  this  actually  occurs.  The  follow- 
ing observations  are  the  result  of  my  personal  experience,  and 
similar  experiments  every  one  of  you  is  competent  to  institute 

for  himself. 

In  the  first  place,  when  we  compose  ourselves  to  rest,  we  do 
not  always  fall  at  once  asleep,  but  remain  for  a  time  in  a  state 
of  incipient  slumber,  —  in  a  state  intermediate  between  sleep 
and  waking.  Now,  if  we  are  gently  roused  from  this  transition- 
state,  we  find  ourselves  conscious  of  being  in  the  commencement 
of  a  dream ;  we  find  ourselves  occupied  with  a  train  of  thought, 
and  this  train  we  are  still  able  to  follow  out  to  a  point  when  it 
connects  itself  with  certain  actual  perceptions.  We  can  still 
trace  imagination  to  sense,  and  show  how,  departing  from  the 
last  sensible  impressions  of  real  objects,  the  fancy  proceeds  in 
its  work  of  distorting,  falsifying,  and  perplexing  these,  in  order 
to  construct  out  of  their  ruins  its  own  grotesque  edifices. 

In  the  second  place,  I  have  always  observed,  that  when  sud- 
denly awakened  during  sleep,  (and  to  ascertain  the  fact  I  have 
caused  myself  to  be  roused  at  different  seasons  of  the  night,)  I 
have  always  been  able  to  observe  that  I  was  in  the  middle  of  a 
dream.  The  recollection  of  this  dream  was  not  always  equally 
vivid.  On  some  occasions,  I  was  able  to  trace  it  back  until  the 
train  was  gradually  lost  at  a  remote  distance ;  on  others,  I  was 
hardly  aware  of  more  than  one  or  two  of  the  latter  links  of  the 
chain ;  and,  sometimes,  was  scarcely  certain  of  more  than  the 
fact,  that  I  was  not  awakened  from  an  unconscious  state.  Why 
we  should  not  always  be  able  to  recollect  our  di-eams,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  explain.     In  our  waking  and  our  sleeping  states,  we 


224 


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THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


225 


are  placed  in  two  worlds  of  thought,  not  only  different  but  con- 
trasted, and  contrasted  both  in  the  character  and  in  the  inten- 
sity of  their  representations.  Wien  snatched  suddenly  from 
the  twilight  of  our  sleeping  imaginations,  and  placed  in  the 
meridian  lustre  of  our  waking  perceptions,  the  necessary  effect 
of  the  transition  is  at  once  to  eclipse  or  obliterate  the  traces  of 
our  dreams.  The  act  itself,  also,  of  rousing  us  from  sleep,  by 
abruptly  interrupting  the  current  of  our  thoughts,  throws  us 
into  confusion,  disquaUfies  us  for  a  time  from  recollection,  and 
before  we  have  recovered  from  our  consternation,  what  we 
could  at  first  have  easily  discerned  is  fled  or  flying. 

A  sudden  and  violent  is,  however,  in  one  respect,  more 
favorable  than  a  gradual  and  spontaneous,  wakening  to  the 
observation  of  the  phaenomena  of  sleep.  For,  in  the  former 
case,  the  images  presented  are  fresh  and  prominent ;  while  in 
the  latter,  before  our  attention  is  applied,  the  objects  of  obser- 
vation have  withdrawn  darkling  into  the  background  of  the 
soul.  We  may,  therefore,  I  think,  assert,  in  general,  that 
whether  we  recollect  our  dreams  or  not,  we  always  dream. 
Something  similar,  indeed,  to  the  rapid  oblivion  of  our  sleeping 
consciousness,  happens  to  us  occasionally  even  when  awake. 
When  our  mind  is  not  intently  occupied  with  any  subject,  or 
more  frequently  when  fatigued,  a  thought  suggests  itself.  We 
turn  it  lazily  over  and  fix  our  eyes  in  vacancy  ;  intermpted  by 
the  question  what  we  are  thinking  of,  we  attempt  to  answer,  but 
the  thought  is  gone ;  we  cannot  recall  it,  and  say  that  we  are 
thinking  of  nothing. 

General  conclusion,  —  The  observations  I  have  hitherto 
made  tend  only  to  establish  the  fact,  that  the  mind  is  never 
wholly  inactive,  and  that  we  are  never  wholly  unconscious  of 
its  activity.  Of  the  degree  and  character  of  that  activity,  I  at 
present  say  nothing.  But  in  confirmation  of  the  opinion  I 
have  now  hazarded,  and  in  proof  of  something  more  even  than 
I  have  ventured  to  maintain,  I  have  great  pleasure  in  quot- 
ino-  the  substance  of  a  remarkable  essay  on  sleep  by  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  philosophers  of  France.  1 
refer   to   M.   Jouffroy,    who,   along   with    ]\I.    Royer   Collard, 


was  at  the  head  of  the  pure  school  of  Scottish  Philosophy  in 

France. 

The  mind  often  awake  when  the  senses  sleep.  — ''1  have 
never  well  understood  those  who  admit  that  in  sleep  the  mind 
is  dormant.  When  we  dream,  we  are  assuredly  asleep,  and 
assuredly  also  our  mind  is  not  asleep,  because  it  thinks ;  it  is, 
therefore,  manifest,  that  the  mind  frequently  wakes  when  the 
senses  are  in  slumber.  But  this  does  not  prove  that  it  never 
sleeps  along  with  them.  To  sleep  is  for  the  mind  not  to  dream ; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  establish  the  fact,  that  there  are  in  sleep 
moments  in  which  the  mind  does  not  dream.  To  have  no 
recollection  of  our  dreams,  does  not  prove  that  we  have  not 
dreamt ;  for  it  can  be  often  proved  that  we  have  dreamt,  al- 
though  the  dream  has  left  no  trace  on  our  memory. 

"  The  fact,  then,  that  the  mind  sometimes  wakes  while  the 
senses  are  asleep,  is  thus  established ;  whereas  the  fact,  that  it 
sometimes  sleeps  along  with  them  is  not;  the  probability,  there- 
fore, is,  that  it  ivakes  always.  It  would  require  contradictory 
facts  to  destroy  the  force  of  this  induction,  which,  on  the  con- 
trary, every  fact  seems  to  confirm.  I  shall  proceed  to  analyze 
some  of  these  which  appear  to  me  curious  and  striking.  They 
manifestly  imply  this  conclusion,  that  the  mind,  during  sleep,  is 
not  in  a  peculiar  state,  but  tjjat  its  activity  is  carried  on  pre- 
cisely as  when  awake. 

Facts  in  support  of  this  coiiclusion.  — '' y^hen  an  inhabitant 
of  the  province  comes  to  Paris,  his  sleep  is  at  first  disturbed, 
and  continually  broken,  by  the  noise  of  the  carriages  passing 
under  his  window.  He  soon,  however,  becomes  accustomed  to 
the  turmoil,  and  ends  by  sleeping  at  Paris  as  he  slept  in  liis 

village. 

"  The  noise,  however,  remains  the  same,  and  makes  an  equal 
impression  on  his  senses;  how  comes  it  that  this  noise  at 
first  hinders,  and  then,  at  length,  does  not  hinder  liim,  from 

sleeping  ? 

"  The  state  of  waking  presents  analogous  facts.  Every  one 
knows  that;  it  is  difficult  to  fix  our  attention  on  a  book,  when 
surrounded   by   persons   engaged   in   conversation;  at  length, 


226 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


227 


however,  we  acquire  this  faculty.  A  man  unaccustomed  to  the 
tumult  of  the  streets  of  Paris  is  unable  to  think  consecutively 
while  walking  through  them;  a  Parisian  finds  no  difficulty. 
He  meditates  as  tranquilly  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd  and  bustle 
of  men  and  carriages,  as  he  could  in  the  centre  of  the  forest. 
The  analogy  between  these  /acts  taken  from  the  state  of 
waking,  and  the  fact  which  I  mentioned  at  the  commencement, 
taken  from  the  state  of  sleep,  is  so  close,  that  the  explanation 
of  the  former  should  throw  some  light  upon  the  latter.  We 
shall  attempt  this  explanation. 

Analysis  of  Attention  and  Distraction. — "  Attention  is  the 
voluntary  application  of  the  mind  to  an  object.  It  is  estab- 
lished, by  experience,  that  we  cannot  give  our  attention  to  two 
different  objects  at  the  same  time.  Distraction  is  the  removal 
of  our  attention  from  a  matter  whh  which  we  are  engaged,  and 
our  bestowal  of  it  on  another  which  crosses  us.  In  distraction, 
attention  is  only  diverted  because  it  is  attracted  by  a  new  per- 
ception or  idea  soliciting  it  more  strongly  than  that  with  which 
it  is  occupied ;  and  this  diversion  diminishes  exactly  in  propor- 
tion as  the  solicitation  is  weaker  on  the  part  of  the  intrusive 
idea.  All  experience  proves  this.  The  more  strongly  atten- 
tion is  applied  to  a  subject,  the  less  susceptible  is  it  of  distrac- 
tion ;  thus  it  is,  that  a  book  whicjji  awakens  a  lively  curiosity 
retains  the  attention  captive ;  a  person  occupied  with  a  matter 
affecting  his  life,  his  reputation,  or  liis  fortune,  is  not  easily  dis- 
tracted;  he  sees  nothing,  he  understands  nothing,  of  what 
passes  around  him ;  we  say  that  he  is  deeply  preoccupied.  In 
like  manner,  the  greater  our  curiosity,  or  the  more  curious  the 
things  that  are  spoken  of  around  us,  the  less  able  are  we  to 
rivet  our  attention  oil  the  book  we  read.  In  like  manner,  also, 
if  we  are  waiting  in  expectation  of  any  one,  the  slightest 
noises  occasion  distraction,  as  these  noises  may  be  the  signal  of 
the  approach  we  anticipate.  All  these  facts  tend  to  prove,  that 
distraction  results  only  when  the  intrusive  idea  solicits  us  more 
strongly  than  that  with  which  we  are  occupied. 

"  Hence  it  is,  that  the  stranger  in  Paris  cannot  think  in  the 
bustle  of  the  streets.     The  impressions  which  assail  liis  eyes 


and  ears  on  every  side,  being  for  him  the  signs  of  things  new  or 
little  known,  when  they  reach  his  mind,  interest  him  more  strongly 
than  the  matter  even  to  which  he  would  apply  his  thoughts. 
Each  of  these  impressions  announces  a  cause  which  may  be 
beautiful,  rare,  curious,  or  terrific ;  the  intellect  cannot  refrain 
from  turning  out  to  verify  the  fact.  It  turns  out,  however,  no 
longer  when  experience  has  made  it  familiar  with  all  that  can 
strike  the  senses  on  tlie  streets  of  Paris ;  it  remains  within,  and 
no  longer  allows  itself  to  be  deranged. 

"  The  other  admits  of  a  similar  explanation.  To  read  with- 
out distraction,  in  the  midst  of  an  unknown  company,  would  be 
impossible.  Curiosity  would  be  too  strong.  This  would  also 
be  the  case  if  the  subject  of  conversation  were  very  interest- 
ing. But  in  a  familiar  circle,  whose  ordinary  topics  of  conver- 
sation are  well  known,  the  ideas  of  the  book  make  an  easy 
conquest  of  our  thoughts. 

"  The  will,  likewise,  is  of  some  avail  in  resisting  distraction. 
Not  that  it  is  able  to  retain  the  attention  when  disquieted  and 
curious ;  but  it  can  recall,  and  not  indulge  it  in  protracted  ab- 
sences, and,  by  constantly  remitting  it  to  the  object  of  its  voli- 
tion, the  interest  of  this  object  becomes  at  last  predominant 
Rational  considerations,  and  the  necessity  of  remaining  atten- 
tive, likewise  exert  an  influence ;  they  come  in  aid  of  the  idea, 
and  lend  it,  so  to  speak,  a  helping  hand  in  concentrating  on  it 

the  attention. 

Distraction  and  Non-distraction  matters  of  intelligence.  -- 
"But,  howsoever  it  maybe  with  all  these  petty  influences,  it 
remains  evident  that  distraction  and  non-distraction  are  neither 
of  them  matters  of  sense,  but  both  matters  of  inteUigence.  It  is 
not  the  senses  which  become  accustomed  to  hear  the  noises  of  the 
stfeet  and  the  sounds  of  conversation,  and  which  end  in  being 
less  affected  by  them ;  if  we  are  at  first  vehemently  affected  by 
the  noises  of  the  street  or  drawing-room,  and  then  httle  or  not 
at  all,  it  is  because  at  first  attention  occupies  itself  with  these 
impressions,  and  afterwards  neglects  them;  when  it  neglects 
them,  it  is  not  diverted  from  its  object,  and  distraction  does  not 
take  place ;  when,  on  the  contrary,  it  accords  them  notice,  it 
abandons  its  object,  and  is  then  distracted. 


228 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


"We  may  observe,  in  support  of  this  conclusion,  that  the 
habit  of  hearing  the  same  sounds  renders  us  sometimes  highly- 
sensible  to  them,  as  occurs  in  savages  and  in  the  blind ;  some- 
times, again,  almost  insensible  to  them,  as  exemplified  in  the 
apathy  of  the  Parisian  for  the  noise  of  carriages.  If  the  effect 
were  physical,  —  if  it  depended  on  the  body  and  not  on  the 
mind,  there  would  be  a  contradiction,  for  the  habit  of  hearing 
the  same  sounds  either  blunts  the  organ  or  sharpens  it ;  it  could 
not  at  once  have  two,  and  two  contrary,  effects  ;  —  it  could  have 
only  one.  The  fact  is,  it  neither  blunts  nor  sharpens ;  the 
or jjan  remains  the  same  ;  the  same  sensations  are  determined ; 
but  when  these  sensations  interest  the  mind,  it  applies  itself  to 
them,  and  becomes  accustomed  to  their  discrimination ;  when 
they  do  not  interest  it,  it  becomes  accustomed  to  neglect,  and 
does  not  discriminate  them.  This  is  the  whole  mystery ;  the 
phcenomenon  is  psychological,  not  physiological. 

The  phcenomena  of  sleep.  —  "  Let  us  now  turn  our  attention 
to  the  state  of  sleep,  and  consider  whether  analogy  does  not 
demand  a  similar  explanation  of  the  fact  which  we  stated  at  the 
commencement.  What  takes  place  when  a  noise  hinders  us 
from  sleeping  ?  The  body  fatigued  begins  to  slumber  ;  then,  of 
a  sudden,  the  senses  are  struck,  and  we  awake ;  then  fatigue 
regains  the  ascendant,  we  relapse  into  drowsiness,  which  is  soon 
again  interrupted ;  and  so  on  for  a  certain  continuance.  When, 
on  the  coutrarv,  we  are  accustomed  to  noise,  the  impressions  it 
makes  no  longer  disturb  our  first  sleep ;  the  drowsiness  is  pro- 
longed, and  we  fall  asleep.  That  the  senses  are  more  torpid 
in  sleep  than  in  our  waking  state,  is  not  a  matter  of  doubt.  But 
when  I  am  once  asleep,  they  are  then  equally  torpid  on  the  first 
night  of  my  arrival  in  Paris  as  on  the  hundredth.  The  noise 
being  the  same,  they  receive  the  same  impressions,  which  they 
transmit  in  equal  vivacity  to  the  mind.  Whence  comes  it, 
then,  that  on  the  first  night  I  am  awakened,  and  not  on  the 
hundredth?  The  physical  facts  are  identical;  the  difference 
can  originate  only  in  the  mind,  as  in  the  case  of  distraction  and 
of  non-distraction  in  the  waking  state.  Let  us  suppose  that  the 
soul  has  fallen  asleep  along  with  the  body ;  on  this  hypothesis, 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


229 


the  slumber  would  be  equally  deep  in  both  cases,  for  the  mind 
and  for  the  senses ;  and  we  should  be  unable  to  see  why,  in  the 
one  case,  it  was  aroused  more  than  in  the  other.  It  remains, 
therefore,  certain  that  it  does  not  sleep  like  the  body ;  and  that, 
in  the  one  case,  disquieted  by  unusual  impressions,  it  awakens 
the  senses  to  inquire  what  is  the  matter ;  whilst  in  the  other, 
knowing  by  experience  of  what  external  fact  these  impressions 
are  the  sign,  it  remains  tranquil,  and  does  not  disturb  the  senses 
to  obtain  a  useless  explanation. 

"  For  let  us  remark,  that  the  mind  has  need  of  the  senses  to 
obtain  a  knowledge  of  external  things.  In  sleep,  tlie  senses  are 
some  of  them  closed,  as  the  eyes ;  the  others  half  torpid,  as 
touch  and  hearing.  If  the  soul  be  disquieted  by  the  impressions 
which  reach  it,  it  requires  the  senses  to  ascertain  the  cause,  and 
to  reheve  its  inquietude.  This  is  the  cause  why  we  find  our- 
selves in  a  disquieted  state,  when  aroused  by  an  extraordinary 
noise ;  and  this  could  not  have  occurred  had  we  not  been  occu- 
pied with  this  noise  before  we  awoke. 

"  This  is  also  the  cause  why  we  sometimes  feel,  during  sleep, 
the  efforts  we  make  to  awaken  our  senses,  when  an  unusual 
noise  or  any  painful  sensation  disturbs  our  rest.  If  we  are  in  a 
profound  sleep,  we  are  for  a  long  time  agitated  before  we  have 
it  in  our  power  to  awake  ;  —  we  say  to  ourselves,  we  must  awake 
in  order  to  get  out  of  pain ;  but  the  sleep  of  the  senses  resists, 
and  it  is  only  by  little  and  little  that  we  are  able  to  rouse  them 
from  torpidity.  Sometimes,  when  the  noise  ceases  before  the 
issue  of  the  struggle,  the  awakening  does  not  take  place,  and, 
in  the  morning,  we  have  a  confused  recollection  of  having  been 
disturbed  during  our  sleep,  —  a  recollection  which  becomes  dis- 
tinct only  when  we  learn  from  others  that  such  and  such  an 
occurrence  has  taken  place  while  we  were  asleep. 

Illustrated  hy  personal  experience.  —  ''I  had  given  orders 
some  time  ago,  that  a  parlor  adjoining  to  my  bedroom  should 
be  swept  before  I  was  called  in  the  morning.  For  the  first  two 
days,  the  noise  awoke  me  ;  but,  thereafter,  I  was  not  aware  of 
it.  Whence  arose  the  difference  ?  The  noises  are  the  same, 
and  at  the  same  hour  I  am  in  the  same  degree  of  slumber; 

20 


230 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


231 


the  same  sensation?,  consequently,  take  place.  Whence  comes 
it  that  I  awoke,  and  do  no  longer  awake  ?  For  this,  it  appears 
to  me,  there  is  but  one  explanation  ;  —  namely,  that  my  mmd 
which  awakes,  and  which  is  now  aware  of  the  cause  of  these 
sensations,  is  no  longer  disquieted,  and  no  longer  rouses  my 
senses.  It  is  true  that  I  do  not  retain  the  recollection  of  this 
reasoning ;  but  this  oblivion  is  not  more  extraordinary  than  tliat 
of  so  many  others  which  cross  our  mind,  both  when  awake  and 
when  asleep. 

"  I  add  a  single  observation.  The  noise  of  the  brush  on  the 
carpet  of  my  parlor  is  as  nothing  compared  with  that  of  the 
heavy  wagons,  which  pass  under  my  windows  at  the  same  hour, 
and  which  do  not  trouble  my  repose  in  the  least.  I  was,  there- 
fore, awakened  by  a  sensation  much  feebler  than  a  crowd  of 
others,  which  I  received  at  the  same  time.  Can  that  hypothesis 
afford  the  reason,  which  supposes  that  the  awakening  is  a  neces- 
sary event ;  that  the  sensations  rouse  the  senses,  and  that  the 
senses  rouse  the  mind  ?  It  is  evident  that  my  mind  alone,  and 
its  activity,  can  explain  why  the  fainter  sensation  awoke  me ; 
as  these  alone  can  explain  why,  when  I  am  reading  in  my  study, 
the  small  noise  of  a  mouse  playing  in  a  corner  can  distract  my 
attention,  while  the  thundering  noise  of  a  passing  wagon  does 
not  affect  me  at  aU. 

"  The  explanation  fully  accounts  for  what  occurs  with  those 
who  sleep  in  attendance  on  the  sick.  All  noises  foreign  to  the 
patient  have  no  effect  on  them ;  but  let  the  patient  turn  him  on 
the  bed,  let  him  utter  a  groan  or  sigh,  or  let  his  breathing  be- 
come painful  or  interrupted,  forthwith  the  attendant  wakes, 
however  little  inured  to  the  vocation,  or  interested  in  the  wel- 
fare of  the  patient.  Whence  comes  this  discrimination  between 
the  noises  which  deserve  the  attention  of  the  attendant,  and 
those  which  do  not,  if,  whilst  the  senses  are  asleep,  the  mind 
does  not  remain  observant,  —  does  not  act  the  sentinel,  does  not 
consider  the  sensations  which  the  senses  convey,  and  does  not 
awaken  the  senses  as  it  finds  these  sensations  disquieting  or  not  ? 
It  is  by  being  strongly  impressed,  previous  to  going  to  sleep, 
with  the  duty  of  attending  to  the  respiration,  motions,  complaints 


of  the  sufferer,  that  we  come  to  awaken  at  all  such  noises,  and 
at  no  others.  The  habitual  repetition  of  such  an  impression 
gives  this  faculty  to  professional  sick-nurses ;  a  lively  interest 
in  the  health  of  the  patient  gives  it  equally  to  the  members  of 
his  family. 

"  It  is  in  precisely  the  same  manner  that  we  waken  at  the 
appointed  hour,  when  before  going  to  sleep  we  have  made  a 
firm  resolution  of  so  doing.  I  have  this  power  in  perfection, 
but  I  notice  that  I  lose  it  if  I  depend  on  any  one  calhng  me. 
In  this  latter  case,  my  mind  does  not  take  the  trouble  of  meas- 
uring the  time  or  of  listening  to  the  clock.  But  in  the  former, 
it  is  necessary  that  it  do  so,  otherwise  the  phaenomenon  is  inex- 
plicable. Every  one  has  made,  or  can  make,  this  experiment ; 
when  it  fails,  it  will  be  found,  if  I  mistake  not,  either  that  we 
have  not  been  sufficiently  preoccupied  with  the  intention,  or  were 
over-fatigued  ;  for  when  the  senses  are  strongly  benumbed,  they 
convey  to  the  mind,  on  the  one  hand,  more  obtuse  sensations  of 
the  monitory  sounds,  and,  on  the  other,  they  resist  for  a  longer 
time  the  efforts  the  mind  makes  to  awaken  them,  when  these 
sounds  have  reached  it. 

"  After  a  night  passed  in  this  effort,  we  have,  in  general,  the 
recollection,  in  the  morning,  of  having  been  constantly  occupied 
during  sleep  with  this  thought.  The  mind,  therefore,  watched, 
and,  full  of  its  resolution,  awaited  the  moment.  It  is  thus  that 
when  we  go  to  bed  much  interested  with  any  subject,  we  remem- 
ber, on  awakening,  that  during  sleep  we  have  been  continually 
haunted  by  it.  On  these  occasions,  the  slumber  is  light,  for,  the 
mind  being  untranquil,  its  agitation  is  continually  disturbing  the 
torpor  of  tlie  senses.  When  the  mind  is  calm,  it  does  not  sleep 
more,  but  it  is  less  restless. 

"  It  would  be  curious  to  ascertain,  whether  persons  of  a  fee- 
ble memory,  and  of  a  volatile  disposition,  are  not  less  capable 
than  others  of  awakening  at  an  appointed  hour  ;  for  these  two 
circumstances  ought  to  produce  this  effect,  if  the  notion  I  have 
formed  of  the  phajnomenon  be  correct.  A  volatile  disposition  is 
unable  strongly  to  preoccupy  itself  with  the  thought,  and  to  form 
a  determined  resolution  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  mem- 


232 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


233 


ory  which  preserves  a  recollection  of  the  resolution  taken  before 
falling  asleep.  I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of  making  the 
experiment. 

General  conclusions. — "  It  appears  to  me,  that,  from  the  pre- 
vious observations,  it  inevitably  follows :  — 

1°,  That  in  sleep  the  senses  are  torpid,  but  that  the  mind 
wakes. 

2°,  That  certain  of  our  senses  continue  to  transmit  to  the 
mind  tlie  imperfect  sensations  they  receive. 

3°,  That  the  mind  judges  these  sensations,  and  that  it  is  in 
virtue  of  its  judgments  that  it  awakens,  or  does  not  awaken,  the 
senses. 

4°,  That  the  reason  why  the  mind  awakens  the  senses  is, 
that  sometimes  the  sensation  disquiets  it,  being  unusual  or  pain- 
ful, and  that  sometimes  the  sensation  warns  it  to  rouse  the 
senses,  as  being  an  indication  of  the  moment  when  it  ought 
to  do  so. 

5°,  That  the  mind  possesses  the  power  of  awakening  the 
senses,  but  that  it  only  accomplishes  this  by  its  own  activity 
overcoming  their  torpor ;  that  this  torpor  is  an  obstacle,  —  un 
obstacle  greater  or  less  as  it  is  more  or  less  profound. 

"  If  these  inferences  are  just,  it  follows  that  we  can  waken 
ourselves  at  will  and  at  appointed  signals ;  that  the  instrument 
called  an  alarum  does  not  act  so  much  by  the  noise  it  makes,  as 
by  the  associations  we  have  established  in  going  to  bed  between 
the  noise  and  the  thought  of  wakening ;  that,  therefore,  an  in- 
strument much  less  noisy,  and  emitting  only  a  feeble  sound, 
would  probably  produce  the  same  effect.  It  follows,  moreover, 
that  we  can  inure  ourselves  to  sleep  profoundly  in  the  midst 
of  the  loudest  noises ;  that  to  accomplish  this,  it  is  perhaps  suf- 
ficient, on  the  first  night,  to  impress  it  on  our  minds  that  these 
sounds  do  not  deserve  attention,  and  ought  not  to  awaken  us ; 
and  that  by  this  mean,  any  one  may  proljably  sleep  as  well  in 
the  mill  as  the  miller  himself.  It  follows,  in  fine,  that  the  sleep 
of  the  strong  and  courageous  ought  to  be  less  easily  disturbed, 
all  things  equal,  than  the  sleep  of  the  weak  and  timid.  Some 
historical  facts  may  be  quoted  in  proof  of  this  last  conclusion." 


I  may  notice  a  rather  curious  case  which  occurs  to  my  recol- 
lection, and  which  tends  to  corroborate  the  theory  of  the  French 
psychologist.     The  object  of  observation  was  the  postman  be- 
tween Halle  and  a  town,  I  forget  which,  some  eight  miles  dis- 
tant.    This  distance  the  postman  was  in  the  habit  of  traversing 
daily.     A  considerable  part  of  his  way  lay  across  a  district  of 
unenclosed  champaign  meadow-land,  and  in  walking  over  this 
smooth  surface,  the  postman  was  generally  asleep.     But  at  the 
termination  of  this  part  of  his  road,  there  was  a  narrow  foot- 
bridge over  a  stream,  and  to  reach  this  bridge,  it  was  necessary 
to  ascend  some  broken  steps.     Now,  it  was  ascertamed  as  com- 
pletely as  any  fact  of  the  kind  could  be,  —  the  observers  were 
shrewd,  and  the  object  of  observation  was  a  man  of  undoubted 
probity,  —  I  say,  it  was  completely  ascertained :  —  1°,  That  the 
postman  was  asleep  in  passing  over  this  level  course ;  2°,  That 
he  held  on  his  way  in  this  state  without  deflection  towards  the 
bridge ;  and,  3°,  That  before  arriving  at  the  bridge,  he  awoke. 
But  this  case  is  not  only  deserving  of  all  credit  from  the  posi- 
tive testimony  by  which  it  is  vouched ;  it  is  also  credible  as 
only  one  of  a  class  of  analogous  cases  which  it  may  be  adduced 
as  representing.    This  case,  besides  showing  that  the  mind  must 
be  active  though  the  body  is  asleep,  shows  also  that  certain 
bodily  functions  may  be  dormant,  while  others  are  alert.     The 
locomotive  faculty  was  here  in  exercise,  while  the  senses  were 
in  slumber. 

This  suo-jxests  to  me  another  example  of  the  same  phaenome- 
non.  It  is  found  in  a  story  told  by  Erasmus  in  one  of  hi^ 
letters,  concerning  his  learned  friend  Oporinus,  the  celebrated 
professor  and  printer  of  Basle.  Oporinus  was  on  a  journey 
with  a  bookseller ;  and,  on  their  road,  they  had  fallen  in  with  a 
manuscript.  Tired  with  their  day's  travelling,  —  travelling  was 
tiicn  almost  exclusively  performed  on  horseback,  —  they  came 
at  nightftiU  to  their  inn.  They  were,  however,  curious  to  ascer- 
tain the  contents  of  their  manuscript,  and  Oporinus  undertook 
the  task  of  reading  it  aloud.  This  he  continued  for  some  time, 
when  the  bookseller  found  it  necessary  to  put  a  question  con- 
ccniing  a  word  which  he  had  not  rightly  understood.     It  was 

20* 


234 


THE  MIND  NEVER  SLEEPS. 


now  discovered  that  Oporinus  was  asleep,  and  being  awakened 
by  his  companion,  he  found  that  he  had  no  recollection  of  what 
for  a  considerable  time  he  had  been  reading.  This  is  a  case 
concurring  with  a  thousand  others  to  prove,  1°,  That  one  bodily 
sense  or  function  may  be  asleep  while  another  is  awake ;  and, 
2°,  That  the  mind  may  be  .in  a  certain  state  of  activity  during 
sleep,  and  no  memory  of  that  activity  remain  after  the  sleep 
has  ceased.  The  first  is  evident ;  for  Oporinus,  while  reading, 
must  have  had  his  eyes,  and  the  muscles  of  his  tongue  and 
fauces  awake ;  though  his  ears  and  other  senses  were  asleep ; 
and  the  second  is  no  less  so,  for  the  act  of  reading  supposed  a 
very  complex  series  of  mental  energies.  I  may  notice,  by  the 
way,  that  physiologists  have  observed,  that  our  bodily  senses 
and  powers  do  not  fall  asleep  simultaneously,  but  in  a  certain 
succession.  We  all  know  that  the  first  symptom  of  slumber  is 
the  relaxation  of  the  eyelids ;  whereas,  hearing  continues  alert 
for  a  season  after  the  power  of  vision  has  been  dormant.  In 
the  case  last  alluded  to,  this  order  was,  however,  violated ;  and 
the  sight  was  forcibly  kept  awake  while  the  hearing  had  lapsed 
into  torpidity. 

In  the  case  of  sleep,  therefore,  so  far  is  it  from  being  proved 
that  the  mind  is  at  any  moment  unconscious,  that  the  result  of 
observation  would  incline  us  to  the  opposite  conclusion. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

GENERAL  PHENOMENA  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS,- IS  THE  MIND 
EVER  UNCONSCIOUSLY  MODIFIED? 

I  PASS  now  to  a  question  in  some  respects  of  still  more 
proximate  interest  to  the  psychologist  than  that  discussed  in  the 
preceding  [chapter]  ;  for  it  is  one  which,  according  as  it  is 
decided,  will  determine  the  character  of  our  explanation  of 
many  of  the  most  important  phaenomena  in  the  philosophy  of 
mind,  and,  in  particular,  the  great  phaenomena  of  Memory  and 
Association.     The   question  I   refer   to   is,  Whether  the  mind 
exerts  energies,  and  is  the  subject  of  modifications,  of  neither  of 
which  it  is  conscious.     This  is  the  most  general  expression  of  a 
problem  which  has  hardly  been  mentioned,  far  less  mooted,  m 
[Great  Britain]  ;  and  when  it  has  attracted  a  passing  notice, 
the  supposition  of   an   unconscious  action  or   passion  of  the 
mind  has  been  treated  as  something  either  unintelligible,  or 
absurd.     In  Germany,  on  the  contrary,  it  has  not  only  been 
canvassed,  but  the  alternative  which  the  philosophers  of  this 
country  have  lightly  considered  as  ridiculous,  has  been  gravely 
established  as  a  conclusion  which  the  phenomena  not  only  wax- 
rant,  but  enforce.     The   French  philosophers,  for  a  long  time, 
viewed  the  question  in  the  same  light  as  the  British.     Condil- 
lac,  indeed,  set  the  latter  the  example ;  but  of  late,  a  revolution 
is  apparent,  and  two  recent  French  psychologists  have  marvel- 
lously propounded  the  doctrine,  long  and  generally  established 
in  Germany,  as  something  new  and  unheard  of  before  then- 
own  assertion  of  the  paradox. 

Three  degrees  of  mental  latency.  —  This  question  is  one  not 
only  of  impoitance,  but  of  difficulty ;  I  shall  endeavor  to  make 
you  understand  its  purport,  by  arguing  it  upon  broader  grounds 


236 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


237 


than  has  hitherto  been  done,  and  shall  prepare  you,  by  some 
preliminary  information,  for  its  discussion.  I  shall,  first  of  all, 
adduce  some  proof  of  the  fact,  that  the  mind  may,  and  does, 
contain  far  more  latent  furniture  than  consciousness  informs  us 
it  possesses.  To  simphfy  the  discussion,  I  shall  distinguish 
three  degrees  of  this  mental  latency. 

In  the^r5^  place,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  riches,  the 
possessions,  of  our  mind  are  not  to  be  measured  by  its  present 
momentary  activities,  but  by  the  amount  of  its  acquired  habits. 
I  know  a  science,  or  language,  not  merely  while  I  make  a  tem- 
porary use  of  it,  but  inasmuch  as  I  can  apply  it  when  and  how 
I  will.  Thus  the  infinitely  greater  part  of  our  spiritual  treas- 
ures lies  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  hid  in  the 
obscure  recesses  of  the  mind.  This  is  the  first  degree  of 
latency.  In  regard  to  this,  there  is  no  difficulty  or  dispute ; 
and  I  only  take  it  into  account  in  order  to  obviate  misconcep- 
tion, and  because  it  affords  a  transition  towards  the  other  two 
degrees,  which  it  conduces  to  illustrate. 

The  second  degree  of  latency  exists  when  the  mind  contains 
certain  systems  of  knowledge,  or  certain  habits  of  action,  which 
it  is  wholly  unconscious  of  possessing  in  its  ordinary  state,  but 
which  are  revealed  to  consciousness  in  certain  extraordinary 
exaltations  of  its  powers.  The  evidence  on  this  point  shows 
that  the  mind  frequently  contains  whole  systems  of  knowledge, 
which,  though,  in  our  normal  state,  they  have  faded  into  absolute 
oblivion,  may,  in  certain  abnormal  states,  as  madness,  febrile 
delirium,  somnambulism,  catalepsy,  etc.,  flash  out  into  luminous 
consciousness,  and  even  throw  into  the  shade  of  unconsciousness 
those  other  systems  by  which  they  had,  for  a  long  period,  been 
eclipsed,  and  even  extinguished.  For  example,  there  are  cases 
in  which  the  extinct  memory  of  whole  languages  was  suddenly 
restored,  and,  what  is  even  still  more  remarkable,  in  which  the 
faculty  was  exhibited  of  accurately  repeating,  in  known  or  un- 
known tongues,  passages  which  were  never  within  the  grasp  of 
conscious  memory  in  the  normal  state.  This  degree,  this  pliJK- 
nomenon  of  latency,  is  one  of  the  most  marvellous  in  the  whole 
compass  of  philosophy ;  and  the  proof  of  its  reahty  will  prepare 


us  for  an  enlightened  consideration  of  the  third,  of  which  the 
evidence,  though  not  less  certain,  is  not  equally  obtrusive.     But, 
however  remarkable  and  important,  this  phaenomenon  has  been 
almost  wholly  neglected  by  psychologists,  and  the  cases  which  I 
adduce  in  iUustration  of  its  reality  have  never  been  previously 
c'oUected  and  applied.     That  in  madness,  in  fever,  in  somnam- 
bulism, and  other  abnormal  states,  the  mind  should  betray  ca- 
pacities and  extensive  systems  of  knowledge,  of  which  it  was  at 
other  times  wholly  unconscious,  is  a  fact  so  remarkable  that  it 
may  well  demand  the  highest  evidence  to  establish  its  truth. 
But  of  such  a  character  is  the  evidence  which  I  am  now  to 
give.     It  consists  of  cases  reported  by  the  most  inteUigent  and 
trustworthy  observers,  —  by  observers  wholly  ignorant  of  each 
other's  testimony;    and  the  phaenomena  observed  were  of  so 
palpable  and  unambiguous  a  nature,  that  they  could  not  possibly 
have  been  mistaken  or  misinterpreted. 

Evidence  from  cases  of  madness. —  ThQ  first,  and  least  inter- 
esting, evidence  I  shall  adduce,  is  derived  from  cases  of  mad- 
ness T  it  is  given  by  a  celebrated  American  physician,  Dr. 

Rush. 

"  The  records  of  the  wit  and  cunning  of  madmen,"  says  the 
Doctor,  "  are  numerous  in  every  country.    Talents  for  eloquence, 
poetry,  music,  and  painting,  and  uncommon  ingenuity  in  several 
of  the  mechanical  arts,  are  often  evolved  in  this  state  of  mad- 
ness.    A  gentleman,  whom  I  attended  in  an  hospital  in  the  year 
1810,  often  delighted  as  weU  as  astonished  the  patients  and  offi- 
cers of  our  hospital  by  his  displays  of  oratory,  in  preaching 
from  a  table  in  the  hospital  yard  every  Sunday.     A  female  pa- 
tient of  mine  who  became  insane  after  parturition,  in  the  year 
1807,  sang  hymns  and  songs  of  her  own  composition  during  the 
latter  stage  of  her  ilhiess,  with  a  tone  of  voice  so  soft  and  pleas- 
ant thatl[  hung  upon  it  with  delight  every  time  I  visited  her. 
She  had  never  discovered  a  talent  for  poetry  or  music  in  any 
previous  part  of  her  life.     Two  instances  of  a  talent  for  draw- 
ing, evolved  by  madness,  have  occurred  within  my  knowledge. 
And  where  is  the  hospital  for  mad  people,  in  which  elegant  and 
completely  rigged  ships,  and  curious  pieces  of  machinery,  have 


238 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


not  been  exhibited  by  persons  who  never  discovered  the  least 
turn  for  a  mechanical  art,  previous  to  their  derangement  ?  Some- 
times we  observe  in  mad  people  an  unexpected  resuscitation  of 
knowledge  ;  hence  we  hear  them  <iescribe  past  events,  and  speak 
in  ancient  or  modern  languages,  or  repeat  long  and  interesting 
passages  from  books,  none  of  which,  we  are  sure,  they  were  ca- 
pable of  recollecting  in  the  natural  and  healthy  state  of  their 
mmd." 

Fro77i  cases  of  fever.  —  The  second  class  of  cases  are  those 
of  fever ;  and  the  first  I  shall  adduce  is  given  on  the  authority 
of  the  patient  himself.  This  is  Mr.  Flint,  a  very  intelligent 
American  clergyman.  I  take  it  from  his  Recollections  of  the 
Valley  of  the  Mississippi.  He  was  travelUng  in  the  State  of 
Bhnois,  and  suffered  the  common  lot  of  visitants  from  other 
climates,  in  being  taken  down  with  a  bilious  fever.  "I  am 
aware,"  he  remarks,  "  that  every  sufferer  in  this  way  is  apt  to 
think  his  own  case  extraordinary.  My  physicians  agreed  with 
all  who  saw  me  that  my  case  was  so.  As  very  few  live  to 
record  the  issue  of  a  sickness  like  mine,  and  as  you  have  re- 
quested me,  and  as  I  have  promised,  to  be  particular,  I  will 
relate  some  of  the  circumstances  of  this  disease.  And  it  is  in 
my  view  desirable,  in  the  bitter  agony  of  such  diseases,  that 
more  of  the  symptoms,  sensations,  and  sufferings  should  have 
been  recorded  than  have  been ;  that  others,  in  similar  pre- 
dicaments, may  know  that  some  before  them  have  had  sufferings 
like  theirs,  and  have  survived  them.  I  had  had  a  fever  before, 
and  had  risen  and  been  dressed  every  day.  But  in  this,  with 
the  first  day,  I  was  prostrated  to  infantine  weakness,  and  felt, 
with  its  first  attack,  that  it  was  a  thmg  very  different  from  what 
I  had  yet  experienced.  Paroxysms  of  derangement  occurred 
the  third  day,  and  this  was  to  me  a  new  state  of  mind.  That 
state  of  disease  in  which  partial  derangement  is  mixed  with  a 
consciousness  generally  sound,  and  a  sensibility  preternaturally 
excited,  I  should  suppose  the  most  distressing  of  all  its  forms. 
At  the  same  time  that  I  was  unable  to  recognize  my  friends,  I  was 
informed  that  my  memory  was  more  than  ordinarily  exact  and 
retentive,  and  that  I  repeated  whole  passages  in  the  different 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


239 


languages  which  I  knew,  with  entire  accuracy.  I  recited,  with- 
out losing  or  misplacing  a  word,  a  passage  of  poetry  which  I 
could  not  so  repeat  after  I  recovered  my  health." 

The  following  more  curious  case  is  given  by  Lord  Monboddo, 
in  his  Ancient  Metaphysics. 

" '  The  Comtesse  de  Laval  had  been  observed,  by  servants 
who  sate  up  with  her  on  account  of  some  indisposition,  to  talk 
in  her  sleep  a  language  that  none  of  them  understood  ;  nor  were 
they  sure,  or,  indeed,  herself  able  to  guess,  upon  the  sounds 
being  repeated  to  her,  whether  it  was  or  was  not  gibberish. 

"  *  Upon  her  lying  in  of  one  of  her  children,  she  was  attended 
by  a  nurse,  who  was  of  the  province  of  Brittany,  and  who  im- 
mediately knew  the  meaning  of  what  she  said,  it  being  in  the 
idiom  of  the  natives  of  that  country;  but  she  herself,  when 
awake,  did  not  understand  a  single  syllable  of  what  she  had 
uttered  in  her  sleep,  upon  its  being  retold  lier. 

"  *  She  was  born  in  that  province,  and  had  been  nursed  in  a 
family  where  nothing  but  that  language  was  spoken ;  so  that,  in 
her  first  infiincy,  she  had  known  it,  and  no  other ;  but  when  she 
returned  to  her  parents,  she  had  no  opportunity  of  keeping  up 
the  use  of  it ;  and,  as  I  have  before  said,  she  did  not  under- 
stand a  word  of  Breton  when  awake,  though  she  spoke  it  in  her 
sleep. 

"  *  I  need  not  say  that  the  Comtesse  de  Laval  never  said  or 
imagined  that  she  used  any  words  of  the  Breton  idiom,  more 
than  were  necessary  to  express  those  ideas  that  are  within  the 
compass  of  a  child's  knowledge  of  objects,' "  etc. 

A  highly  interesting  case  is  given  by  ]VIi\  Coleridge  in  his 
Biographia  Literaria. 

"It  occurred,"  says  Mr.  Coleridge,  "in  a  Roman  Catholic 
town  in  Germany,  a  year  or  two  before  my  arrival  at  Gottingen, 
and  had  not  then  ceased  to  be  a  frequent  subject  of  conversa- 
tion. A  young  woman  of  four  or  five  and  twenty,  who  could 
neither  read  nor  write,  was  seized  with  a  nervous  fever ;  during 
which,  according  to  the  asseverations  of  all  the  priests  and  monks 
of  the  neighborhood,  she  became  possessed,  and,  as  it  appeared, 
by  a  very  learned  devil.     She  continued  incessantly  talking 


240 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


241 


Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew,  in  very  pompous  tones,  and  with 

most  distinct  enunciation Sheets  full  of  her  ravings 

were  taken  down  from  her  own  mouth,  and  were  found  to  con- 
Bist  of  sentences,  coherent  and  intelUgible  each  for  .tself,  but 
with  little  or  no  connection  with  each  other.     Of  the  Hebrew, 
a  small  portion  only  could  be  traced  to  the  Bible  ;  the  remamder 
seemed  to  be  in  the  Rabbinical  dialect.     All  trick  or  conspiracy 
was  out  of  the  question.     Not  only  had  the  young  woman  ever 
been  a  harmless,  simple  creature  ;  but  she  was  evidently  labor- 
in-  under  a  nervous  fever.     In  the  town,  in  which  she  had  been 
resident  for  many  years  as  servant  in  different  families,  no  solu- 
tion presented  itself.     A  young  physician,  however,  detcrmmed 
to  trace  her  past  life  step  by  step ;  for  the  patient  herself  was 
incapable  of  returning  a  rational  answer.     He  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  discovering  the  place  where  her  parents  had  hved; 
travelled  thither,  found  them  dead,  but  an  uncle  suniving ;  and 
from  him  learned  that  the  patient  had  been  charitably  taken  by 
an  old  Protestant  pastor  at  nine  years  old,  and  had  remained 

with  him  some  years,  even  till  the  old  man's  death •  . 

Anxious  inquiries  were  then,  of  course,  made  concerning  the 
pastor's  habits ;  and  the  solution  of  the  phicnomenon  was  soon 
obtained.     For  it  appeared  that  it  had  been  the  old  man's  cus- 
tom, for  years,  to  walk  up  and  down  a  passage  of  his  house  into 
which  the  kitchen-door  opened,  and  to  read  to  himseH,  with  a 
loud  voice,  out  of  his  favorite  books.     A  considerable  number 
of  these  were  stlU  in  the  niece's  possession.     She  added,  that 
he  was  a  very  learned  man,  and  a  great  Hebraist,     Among  his 
books  were  found  a  collection  of  Rabbinical  writings,  together 
with  several  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  fathers ;  and  the  physician 
succeeded  in  identifying  so  many  passages  with  those  taken 
down  at  the  young  woman's  bedside,  that  no  doubt  could  remain 
in  any  rational  mind  concerning  the  true  origin  of  the  impres- 
sions made  on  her  nervous  system." 

These  cases  thus  evince  the  general  fact,  that  a  mental  modi- 
fication is  not  proved  not  to  be,  merely  because  consciousncs» 
aflbrds  us  no  evidence  of  its  existence.  This  general  fact  bemg 
estabUshed,  I  now  proceed  to  consider  the  question  m  relation 


to  the  third  class  or  degree  of  latent  modifications,  —  a  class  in 
relation  to,  and  on  the  ground  of  which  alone,  it  has  ever  hith- 
erto been  argued  by  philosophers. 

The  third  degree  of  latency.  —  The  problem,  then,  in  regard 
to  this  class  is,  —  Are  there,  in  ordinary,  mental  modific^ 
lions,  —  i'  e.  mental  activities  and  passivities,  of  which  we  are 
unconscious,  but  which  manifest  their  existence  hy  effects  of 
which  we  are  conscious  ? 

In  the  question  proposed,  I  am  not  only  strongly  inclined  to 
the  affirmative ;  —  nay,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  maintain,  that  what 
we  are  conscious  of  is  constructed  out  of  what  we  are  not  con- 
scious of,  —  that  our  whole  knowledge,  in  fact,  is  made  up  of 
the  unknown  and  the  incognizable. 

This,  at  first  sight,  may  appear  not  only  paradoxical,  but  con- 
tradictory. It  may  be  objected,  1°,  How  can  we  know  that  to 
exist  which  lies  beyond  the  one  condition  of  all  knowledge,  — 
consciousness?  And,  2°,  How  can  knowledge  arise  out  of 
ignorance,  —  consciousness  out  of  unconsciousness,  —  the  cog- 
nizable out  of  the  incognizable,  —  that  is,  how  can  one  opposite 
proceed  out  of  the  other? 

In  answer  to  the  first  objection,  —  how  can  we  know  that  of 
which  we  are  conscious,  seeing  that  consciousness  is  the  condi- 
tion of  knowledge,  —  it  is  enough  to  allege,  that  there  are  many 
things  which  we  neither  know  nor  can  know  in  themselves,  — 
that  is,  in  their  direct  and  immediate  relation  to  our  faculties 
of  knowledge,  but  which  manifest  their  existence  indirectly 
throufrh  the  medium  of  then-  effects.  This  is  the  case  with  the 
mental  modifications  in  question ;  they  are  not  in  themselves 
revealed  to  consciousness,  but  as  certain  facts  of  consciousness 
necessarily  suppose  them  to  exist,  and  to  exert  an  influence  in 
the  mental  processes,  we  are  thus  constrained  to  admit,  as 
modifications  of  mind,  what  are  not  in  themselves  phaenomena 
of  consciousness.  The  truth  of  this  will  be  apparent,  if,  before 
descending  to  any  special  illustration,  we  consider  that  con- 
sciousness cannot  exist  independently  of  some  peculiar  modifica- 
tion of  mind;  we  are  only  conscious  as  we  are  conscious  of  a 
determinate  state.     To  be  conscious,  we  must  be  conscious  of 

21 


242 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


243 


some  particular  perception,  or  remembrance,  or  imagination,  or 
feelintT,  etc. ;  we  have  no  general  consciousness.  But  as  con- 
sciousness supposes  a  special  mental  modification  as  its  object, 
it  must  be  remembered,  that  this  modification  or  state  supposes 
a  change,  —  a  transition  from  some  other  state  or  modification. 
But  as  the  modification  must  be  present,  before  we  have  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  modification,  it  is  evident,  that  we  can  liave 
no  consciousness  of  its  rise  or  awakening;  for  its  rise  or 
awakening  is  also  the  rise  or  awakening  of  consciousness. 

But  the  illustration  of  this  is  contained  in  an  answer  to  the 
second  objection,  which  asks,  —  How  can  knowledge  come  out 
of  ignorance,  —  consciousness  out  of  unconsciousness,  —  the 
known  out  of  the  unknown,  —  how  can  one  opposite  be  made 
u{)  of  the  other? 

In  the  removal  of  this  objection,  the  proof  of  the  thesis 
which  I  support  is  involved.  And  without  dealing  in  any  gen- 
eral speculation,  I  shall  at  once  descend  to  the  special  evi- 
dence, which  appears  to  me  not  merely  to  warrant,  but  to 
necessitate  the  conclusion,  that  the  sphere  of  our  conscious 
modifications  is  only  a  small  circle  in  the  centre  of  a  far  wider 
sphere  of  action  and  passion,  of  which  we  are  only  conscious 
through  its  elfects. 

I.  External  Perception.  1.  The  sense  of  Sight.  — J.Qt  ns 
take  our  first  example  from  Perception,  —  the  perception  of 
external  objects,  and  in  that  faculty,  let  us  commence  with  the 
sense  of  sight.  Now,  you  either  already  know,  or  can  be  at 
once  informed,  what  it  is  that  has  obtained  the  name  of  Mini- 
mum Visibile.  You  are  of  course  aware,  in  general,  that  vision 
is  the  result  of  the  rays  of  light  reflected  from  the  surface  of 
objects  to  the  eye  ;  a  greater  n\nnber  of  rays  is  reflected  from  a 
larger  surface ;  if  the  superficial  extent  of  an  object,  and,  con- 
sequently, the  number  of  rays  which  it  reflects,  be  diminished 
beyond  a  certain  limit,  the  object  becomes  invisible ;  and  the 
minimum  visibile  is  the  smallest  expanse  which  can  be  seen, — 
Avhich  can  consciously  afiect  us,  —  which  we  can  be  conscious 
of  seeing.  This  being  understood,  it  is  plain  that,  if  we  divide 
this  minimum  visibile  into  two  parts,  neither  half  can,  by  itself, 


be  an  object  of  vision,  or  visual  consciousness.  They  are,  sev- 
erally and  apart,  to  consciousness  as  zero.  But  it  is  evident, 
that  each  half  must,  by  itself,  have  produced  in  us  a  certain 
modification,  real  though  unperceived ;  for  as  the  perceived 
whole  is  nothing  but  the  union  of  the  unperceived  halves,  so 
the  perception  —  the  perceived  affection  itself  of  which  we  are 
conscious  —  is  only  the  sum  of  two  modifications,  each  of  which 
severally  eludes  our  consciousness.  When  we  look  at  a  distant 
forest,  we  perceive  a  certain  expanse  of  green.  Of  this,  as  an 
affection  of  our  organism,  we  are  clearly  and  distinctly  con- 
scious. Now,  the  expanse,  of  which  we  are  conscious,  is  evi- 
dently made  up  of  parts  of  which  we  are  not  conscious.  No 
leaf,  perhaps  no  tree,  may  be  separately  visible.  But  the 
greenness  of  the  forest  is  made  up  of  the  greenness  of  the 
leaves ;  that  is,  the  total  impression  of  which  we  are  conscious, 
is  made  up  of  an  infinitude  of  small  impressions  of  which  we 
are  not  conscious. 

2.  Sense  of  Hearing.  —  Take  another  example,  from  the 
sense  of  hearing.  In  this  sense,  there  is,  in  like  manner,  a 
Minimum  Audibile,  that  is,  a  sound  the  least  which  can  come 
into  perception  and  consciousness.  But  this  minimum  audibile 
is  made  up  of  parts  which  severally  affect  the  sense,  but  of 
which  affections,  separately,  we  are  not  conscious,  though  of 
their  joint  result  we  are.  AVe  must,  therefore,  here  likewise, 
admit  the  reality  of  modifications  beyond  the  sphere  of  con- 
sciousness. To  take  a  special  example.  When  we  hear  the 
distant  murmur  of  the  sea,  —  what  are  the  constituents  of  the 
total  perception  of  which  we  are  conscious  ?  This  murmur  is  a 
sum  made  up  of  parts,  and  the  sum  would  be  as  zero  if  the 
parts  did  not  count  as  something.  The  noise  of  the  sea  is  the 
comi)lement  of  the  noise  of  its  several  waves ;  —  Ttovzicov  rs 
avuuroDV  '^r/;Qi0^iov  ytlaa^ia '  and  if  the  noise  of  each  wave 
made  no  impression  on  our  sense,  the  noise  of  the  sea,  as  the 
result  of  these  impressions,  could  not  be  realized.  But  the 
noise  of  each  several  wave,  at  the  distance  we  suppose,  is  in- 
audible ;  we  must,  however,  admit  that  they  produce  a  certain 
modification,  beyond  consciousness,  on  the  percipient  subject; 


^1 


244 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


for  this  is  necessarily  involved  in  the  reality  of  their  result. 
The  same  is  equally  the  case  in  the  other  senses ;  the  taste  or 
smell  of  a  dish,  be  it  agreeable  or  disagreeable,  is  composed  of 
a  multitude  of  severally  imperceptible  effects,  which  the  stimu- 
lating particles  of  the  viand  cause  on  different  points  of  the 
nervous  expansion  of  the  gustatory  jpid  olfactory  organs ;  and 
the  pleasant  or  painful  feeling  of  softness  or  roughness  is  the 
result  of  an  infinity  of  unfeU  modifications,  which  the  body 
handled  deteimines  on  the  countless  papiUie  of  the  nerves  of 

touch. 

II.  Associaiion  of  Ideas.  — Ijet  us  now  take  an  example 
from  another  mental  process.  AVe  have  not  yet  spoken  of  what 
is  caUed  the  Association  of  Ideas ;  and  it  is  enough  for  our 
present  purpose  that  you  should  be  aware,  that  one  thought 
suo-^ests  another  in  conformity  to  certain  determinate  laws,— 
laws  to  which  the  successions  of  our  whole  mental  states  are 
subjected.  Now  it  sometimes  happens,  that  we  find  one  thought 
rising  immediately  after  another  in  consciousness,  but  whose 
consecution  we  can  reduce  to  no  law  of  association.  Now  in 
these  cases  we  can  generally  discover,  by  an  attentive  obsei-va- 
tion,  that  these  two  thoughts,  though  not  themselves  associated, 
are  each  associated  with  certain  other  thoughts;  so  that  the 
whole  consecution  would  have  been  regular,  had  these  inter- 
mediate thoughts  come  into  consciousness,  between  the  two 
which  are  not  immediately  associated.  Suppose,  for  instance, 
that  A,  B,  C,  are  three  thoughts,  —  that  A  and  C  cannot  im- 
mediately suggest  each  other,  but  that  each  is  associated  with 

B,  so  that  A  will  naturally  suggest  B,  and  B  naturally  suggest 

C.  Now  it  may  happen,  that  w^e  are  conscious  of  A,  and, 
immediately  thereafter,  of  C.  How^  is  the  anomaly  to  be  ex- 
plained? It  can  only  be  explained  on  the  principle  of  latent 
modifications.  A  suggests  C,  not  immediately,  but  through  B ; 
but  as  B,  like  the  half  of  the  minimum  visihile  or  minimum 
audibile,  does  not  rise  into  consciousness,  we  are  apt  to  consider 
it  as  non-existent.  You  are  probably  aware  of  the  following 
fact  in  mechanics.  If  a  number  of  billiard  balls  be  placed  in  a 
straight  row  and  touching  each  other,  and  if  a  ball  be  made  to 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


245 


strike,  in  the  line  of  the  row,  the  ball  at  one  end  of  the  series, 
what  will  happen  ?     The  motion  of  the  impinging  ball  is  not 
divided  among  the  whole  row ;  this,  w^hich  w^e  might  a  priori 
have  expected,  does  not  happen ;  but  the  impetus  is  transmitted 
through  the  intermediate  balls,  which  remain  each  in  its  place, 
to  the  ball  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  series,  and  this  ball  alone 
is  impelled  on.     Something  like  this  seems  often  to  occur  in  the 
train  of  thought.     One  idea   mediately  suggests  another  into 
consciousness,  —  the  suggestion  passing  through  one   or  more 
ideas  which  do  not  themselves  rise  into  consciousness.     The 
awakening  and  awakened  ideas  here  correspond  to  the  ball 
striking  and  the  ball  struck  off;  while  the  intermediate  ideas  of 
which  we  are  unconscious,  but  which  carry  on  the  suggestion, 
resemble  the  intermediate  balls  which  remain  moveless,  but 
communicate  the  impulse.     An  instance  of  this  occurs  to  me 
with  which  I  was  recently  struck.     Tliinking  of  Ben  Lomond, 
this  thought  was  immediately  followed  by  the   thought  of  the 
Prussian  system  of  education.     Now,  conceivable  connection 
between  these  two  ideas  in  themselves,  there  was  none.     A 
little  reflection,  however,  explained  the  anomaly.     On  my  last 
visit  to  the  mountain,  I  had  met  upon  its  summit  a  German 
jrentleman,  and  thoudi  I  had  no  consciousness  of  the  interme- 
diate  and  unawakened  links   between    Ben   Lomond  and  the 
Prussian   schools,  they    w^ere   undoubtedly  these;  —  the   Ger- 
man, —  Germany, —  Prussia,  — and,  these  media  being  admit- 
ted, the  connection  between  the  extremes  was  manifest. 

SteioarCs  explanation  of  the  phcenomenon.  —  I  should  perhaps 
reserve  for  a  future  occasion  noticing  Mr.  Stewart's  explanation 
of  tliis  phcenomenon.  He  admits  that  a  perception  or  idea  may 
pass  through  the  mind  without  leaving  any  trace  in  the  memory, 
and  yet  serve  to  introduce  other  ideas  connected  with  it  by  the 
laws  of  association.  IVIi'.  Stewart  can  hardly  be  said  to  have 
contemplated  the  possibility  of  the  existence  and  agency  of 
mental  modifications  of  which  we  are  unconscious.  He  grants 
the  necessity  of  interpolating  certain  intermediate  ideas,  in  order 
to  account  for  the  connection  of  thought,  which  could  otherwise 
be  explained  by  no  theory  of  association ;  and  he  admits  that 

21* 


246 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


247 


these  intermediate  ideas  are  not  known  by  memory  to  have 
actually  intervened.  So  far,  there  is  no  difference  in  the  two 
doctrines.  But  now  comes  the  separation.  Mr.  Stewart  sup- 
poses that  the  intermediate  ideas  are,  for  an  instant,  awakened 
into  consciousness,  but,  in  the  same  moment,  utterly  forgot; 
whereas  the  opinion  I  would  prefer,  holds  that  they  are  efficient 
without  rising  into  consciousness.  Mr.  Stewart's  doctrine  on 
this  point  is  exposed  to  all  the  difficulties,  and  has  none  of  the 
proofs  in  its  favor  which  concur  in  establishing  the  other. 

Difficulties  of  Stewart's  doctrine.  —  In  the  frst  place,  to  as- 
sume the  existence  of  acts  of  consciousness  of  which  there  is 
no  memory  beyond  the  moment  of  existence,  is  at  least  as  in- 
conceivable an  hypothesis  as   the  other.     But,  in  the  second 
place,  it  violates  the  whole  analogy  of  consciousness,  which  the 
other  does  not.     Consciousness  supposes  memory ;  and  we  are 
only  conscious  as  we  are  able  to  connect  and  contrast  one  in- 
stance of  our  intellectual  existence  with  another.     Whereas,  to 
suppose  the   existence  and   efficiency  of  modifications  beyond 
consciousness,  is  not  at  variance  with  its  conditions ;  for  con- 
sciousness, though  it  assures  us  of  the  reality  of  what  is  within 
its  sphere,  says  nothing  against  the  reality.of  what  is  without. 
In  the  third  place,  it  is  demonstrated,  that,  in  perception,  there 
are  modifications,  efficient,  though  severally  imperceptible ;  why, 
therefore,  in  riie  other  faculties,  should  there  not  likewise  be 
modifications,  efficient,  though  unapparent  ?    In  the  fourth  place, 
there  must  be  some  reason  for  the  assumed  fact,  that  there  are 
perceptions  or  ideas  of  which  we  are  conscious,  but  of  which 
there  is  no  memory.     Now,  the  only  reason  that  can  possibly 
be  assigned  is,  that  the  consciousness  was  too  faint  to  afford  the 
condition  of   memory.     But  of   consciousness,  however  faint, 
there  must  be  some  memory,  however  short.     But  this  is  at 
vaiiance  with  the  phaiuomenon ;  for  the  ideas  A  and  C  may 
precede  and  follow  each  other  without  any  perceptible  interval, 
and  without  any,  the  feeblest,  memory  of  B.     K  there  be  no 
memory,  there  could  have  been  no  consciousness ;  and,  there- 
fore, Mr.  Stewart's  hypothesis,  if  strictly  interrogated,  must, 
even  at  last,  take  refuge  in  our  doctrine ;  for  it  can  easily  be 


shown,  that  the  degree  of  memory  is  directly  in  proportion  to 
the  degree  of  consciousness,  and,  consequently,  that  an  absolute 
negation  of  memory  is  an  absolute  negation  of  consciousness. 

III.  Our  Acquired  Dexterities  and  Habits.  —  Let  us  now 
turn  to  another  class  of  phajnomena,  which  in  hke  manner  are 
capable  of  an  adequate  explanation  only  on  the  theory  I  have 
advanced ;  —  I  mean  the  operations  resulting  from  our  Acquired 
Dexterities  and  Habits. 

To  explain  these,  three  theories  have  been  advanced.  The 
first  regards  them  ifs  merely  mechanical  or  automatic,  and  thus 
denying  to  the  mind  all  active  or  voluntary  intervention,  conse- 
quently removes  them  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness. 
The  second^  again,  allows  to  each  several  motion  a  separate  act 
of  conscious  volition ;  while  the  third,  which  I  would  maintain, 
holds  a  medium  between  these,  constitutes  the  mind  the  agent, 
accords  to  it  a  conscious  volition  over  the  series,  but  denies  to  it 
a  consciousness  and  deliberate  volition  in  regard  to  each  sepa- 
rate movement  in  the  series  which  it  determines. 

The  first  or  mechanical  theory.  —  The  first  of  these  has  been 
maintained,  among  others,  by  two  philosophers  who  in  other 
points  are  not  frequently  at  one,  —  by  Reid  and  Hartley. 
"  Habit,"  says  Reid,  "  differs  from  instinct,  not  in  its  nature,  but 
in  its  origin ;  the  last  being  natural,  the  first  acquired.  Both 
operate  without  will  or  intention,  without  thought,  and  therefore 
may  be  called  mechanical  principles."  In  another  passage,  he 
expresses  himself  thus :  "  I  conceive  it  to  be  a  part  of  our  con- 
stitution, that  what  we  have  been  accustomed  to  do,  we  acquire 
not  only  a  facility  but  a  proneness  to  do  on  like  occasions ;  so 
that  it  requires  a  particular  will  or  effort  to  forbear  it,  but  to  do 
it  requires  very  often  no  will  at  all." 

The  same  doctrine  is  laid  down  still  more  explicitly  by  Dr. 
Hartley.  "  Suppose,"  says  he,  "  a  person  who  has  a  perfectly 
voluntary  command  over  his  fingers,  to  begin  to  learn  to  play 
on  the  harpsichord.  The  first  step  is  to  move  his  fingers,  from 
key  to  key,  with  a  slow  motion,  looking  at  the  notes,  and  exert- 
ing an  express  act  of  volition  in  every  motion.  By  degrees,  the 
motions  cling  to  one  another,  and  to  the  impressions  of  the  notes, 


248 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


in  the  way  of  association,  so  often  mentioned ;  the  acts  of  voli- 
tion irrowinjr  less  and  less  express  all  the  time,  till,  at  last,  they 
become  evanescent  and  imperceptible.  For  an  expert  performer 
will  play  from  notes,  or  ideas  laid  up  in  the  memory,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  carry  on  a  quite  different  train  of  thoughts  in  his 
mind ;  or  even  hold  a  conversation  with  another.  Whence  we 
conclude,  that  there  is  no  intervention  of  the  idea,  or  state  of 
mind,  called  will."  Cases  of  this  sort  Hartley  calls  "  transitions 
of  voluntary  actions  into  automatic  ones." 

The  second  theory  by  Stewart.  —  The  second  theory  is  main- 
tained against  the  first  by  Mr.  Stewart ;  and  I  think  his  refuta- 
tion valid,  though  not  his  confirmation.     "  I  cannot  help  thinking 
it,"  he  says,  "  more  philosophical  to  suppose,  that  those  actions 
which  are  originally  voluntary  always  continue  so,  aUhough,  in 
the   case   of  operations  which  are  become  habitual  in  conse- 
quence of  long  practice,  we  may  not  be  able  to  recollect  every 
different  volition.     Thus,  in  the  case  of  a  performer  on  the 
harpsichord,  I  apprehend  that  there  is  an  act  of  the  will  preced- 
ing^ every  motion  of  every  finger,  although  he  may  not  be  able 
to  recollect  these  volitions  afterwards,  and  although  he  may, 
during  the  time  of  his  performance,  be  employed  in  carrying  on 
a  separate  train  of  thought.     For  it  must  be  remarked,  that  the 
most  rapid  performer  can,  when  he  pleases,  play  so  slowly  as  to 
be  able  to  attend  to,  and  to  recollect,  every  separate  act  of  his 
will  in  the  various  movements  of  his  fingers ;  and  he  can  grad- 
ually accelerate  the  rate  of  his  execution,  till  he  is  unable  to 
recollect  these  acts.     Now,  in  this  instance,  one  of  two  suppo- 
sitions musL  be  made.     The  one  is,  that  the  operations  in  the 
two  cases  are  carried  on  precisely  in  the  same  manner,  and 
differ  only  in  th(^  degree  of  rapidity ;  and  that  when  this  rapid- 
ity exceeds  a  certain  rate,  the  acts  of  the  will  are  too  momentary 
to  leave  any  impression   on  the  memory.     The  other  is,  that 
when  the  rapidity  exceeds  a  certain  rate,  the  operation  is  taken 
entirely  out  of  our  hands,  and  is  carried  on  by  some  unknown 
power,  of  the  nature   of  which  we  are  as  ignorant  as  of  th6 
cause  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  or  of  the  motion  of  the 
intestines.     The  last  supposition  seems  to  me  to  be  somewhat 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


249 


similar  to  that  of  a  man  who  should  maintain,  that  although  a 
body  projected  with  a  moderate  velocity  is  seen  to  pass  through 
all  the  intermediate  spaces  in  moving  from  one  place  to  another, 
yet  we  are  not  entitled  to  conclude  that  this  happens  when  the 
body  moves  so  quickly  as  to  become  invisible  to  the  eye.  The 
former  supposition  is  supported  by  the  analogy  of  many  other 
facts  in  our  constitution.  Of  some  of  these  I  have  already  taken 
notice,  and  it  would  be  easy  to  add  to  the  number.  An  expert 
accountant,  for  example,  can  sum  up,  almost  with  a  single  glance 
of  his  eye,  a  long  column  of  figures.  He  can  tell  the  sum,  with 
unerring  certainty,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he  is  unable  to  re- 
collect any  one  of  the  figures  of  which  that  sum  is  composed ; 
and  yet  nobody  doubts  that  each  of  these  figures  has  passed 
through  his  mind,  or  supposes,  that,  when  the  rapidity  of  the 
process  becomes  so  great  that  he  is  unable  to  recollect  the  vari- 
ous steps  of  it,  he  obtains  the  result  by  a  sort  of  inspiration. 
This  last  supposition  would  be  perfectly  analogous  to  Dr.  Hart- 
ley's doctrine  concerning  the  nature  of  our  habitual  exertions. 

"The  only  plausible  objection  which,  I  think,  can  be  offered 
to  the  principles  I  have  endeavored  to  establish  on  this  subject, 
is  founded  on  the  astonishing  and  almost  incredible  rapidity  they 
necessarily  suppose  in  our  intellectual  operations.  When  a  per- 
son, for  example,  reads  aloud,  there  must,  according  to  this  doc- 
trine, be  a  separate  volition  preceding  the  articulation  of  every 
letter ;  and  it  has  been  found  by  actual  trial,  that  it  is  possible 
to  pronounce  about  two  thousand  letters  in  a  minute.  Is  it  rea- 
sonable to  suppose  that  the  mind  is  capable  of  so  many  different 
acts,  in  an  interval  of  time  so  very  inconsidei*able  ? 

"  With  respect  to  this  objection,  it  may  be  observed,  in  the 
first  place,  that  all  arguments  against  the  foregoing  doctrine  with 
respect  to  our  habitual  exertions,  in  so  far  as  they  are  founded 
on  the  inconceivable  rapidity  which  they  suppose  in  our  intel- 
lectual operations,  apply  equally  to  the  common  doctrme  con- 
cerning our  perception  of  distance  by  the  eye.  But  this  is  not 
all.  To  what  does  the  supposition  amount  which  is  considered 
as  so  incredible  ?  Only  to  this,  that  the  mind  is  so  formed  as  to 
be  able  to  carry  on  certain  intellectual  processes  in  intervals  of 


250 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


time  too  short  to  be  estimated  by  our  faculties ;  a  supposition 
which,  so  far  from  being  extravagant,  is  supported  by  the  anal- 
ogy of  many  of  our  most  certain  conclusions  in  natural  philoso- 
phy.    The  discoveries  made  by  the  microscope  have  laid  open 
to  our  senses  a  world  of  wonders,  the  existence  of  which  hardly 
any  man  would  have  admitted  upon  inferior  evidence  ;  and  have 
gradually  prepared  the  way  for  those  physical  speculations,  which 
explain  some  of  the  most  extraordinary  pha3nomena  of  nature 
by  means  of  modifications   of   matter  far  too  subtile  for  the 
examination  of  our  organs.     Why,  then,  should  it  be  consid- 
ered as  unphilosophical,  after  having  demonstrated  the  existence 
of  various  intellectual  processes  wliich  escape  our  attention  in 
consequence  of  their  rapidity,  to  carry  the  supposition  a  little 
further,  in  order  to  bring  under  the  known  laws  of  the  human 
constitution  a  class  of  mental  operations  which  must  otherwise 
remain  perfectly  inexplicable  ?     Surely,  our  ideas  of  time  are 
merely  relative,  as  well  as  our  ideas  of  extension ;  nor  is  there 
any  good  reason  for  doubting  that,  if  our  powers  of  attention 
and  memory  were  more  perfect  than  they  are,  so  as  to  give  us 
the  same  advantage  in  examining  rapid  events,  which  the  micro- 
scope gives  for  examining  minute  portions  of  extension,  they 
would  enlarge  our  views  with  respect  to  the  intellectual  world, 
no  less  than  that  instrument  has  with  respect  to  the  material." 

Stewart's  theory  shoivn  to  involve  contradictions.  —  This  doc- 
trine of  Mr.  Stewart,  —  that  our  acts  of  knowledge  are  made 
up  of  an  infinite  number  of  acts  of  attention,  that  is,  of  various 
acts  of  concentrated  consciousness,  there  being  required  a  sepa- 
rate act  of  attention  for  every  mininuun  possible  of  knowledge, 

I  have  already  shown  you,  by  various  examples,  to  involve 

contradictions.  In  the  present  instance,  its  achnission  would 
constrain  our  assent  to  the  most  monstrous  conclusions.  Take 
the  case  of  a  person  reading.  Now,  all  of  you  must  have  ex- 
perienced, if  ever  under  the  necessity  of  reading  aloud,  that,  if 
the  matter  be  uninteresting,  your  thoughts,  while  you  are  going 
on  in  the  performance  of  your  task,  are  wholly  abstracted  from 
the  book  and  its  subject,  and  you  are  perhaps  deeply  occupied 
in  a  train  of  serious  meditation.     Here  the  process  of  reading 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


251 


is  performed  without  interruption,  and  with  the  most  punctual 
accuracy ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  process  of  meditation  is 
cai'ried  on  without  distraction  or  fatigue.  Now  this,  on  Mr. 
Stewart's  doctrine,  would  seem  impossible ;  for  what  does  his 
theory  suppose  ?  It  supposes  that  separate  acts  of  concentrated 
consciousness  or  attention  are  bestowed  on  each  least  movement 
in  either  process.  But  be  the  velocity  of  the  mental  operations 
what  it  may,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  how  transitions  between 
such  contrary  operations  could  be  kept  up  for  a  continuance 
without  fatigue  and  distraction,  even  if  we  throw  out  of  ac- 
count the  fact,  that  the  acts  of  attention  to  be  effectual  must  be 
smiultaneous,  which  on  Mr.  Stewart's  theory  is  not  allowed. 

"We  could  easily  give  examples  of  far  more  complex  opera- 
tions ;  but  this,  with  what  has  been  previously  said,  I  deem  suf- 
ficient to  show,  that  we  must  either  resort  to  the  first  theory, 
which,  as  nothing  but  the  assumption  of  an  occult  and  incom- 
prehensible principle,  in  fact  explains  nothing,  or  adopt  the 
theory  that  there  are  acts  of  mind  so  rapid  and  minute  as  to 
elude  the  ken  of  consciousness. 

The  doctrine  of  unconscious  mental  modifications.  —  I  shall 
now  say  something  of  the  history  of  this  opinion.  It  is  a  curi- 
ous fact  that  Locke  attributes  this  opinion  to  the  Cartesians,  and 
he  thinks  it  was  employed  by  them  to  support  their  doctrine  of 
the  ceaseless  activity  of  mind.  In  this,  as  in  many  other  points 
of  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  he  is,  however,  wholly  wrong.  On 
the  contrary,  the  Cartesians  made  consciousness  the  essence  of 
thought;  and  their  assertion  that  the  mind  always  thinks  is,  in 
their  language,  precisely  tantamount  to  the  assertion  that  the 
mind  is  always  conscious. 

But  what  was  not  maintained  by  the  Cartesians,  and  even  in 
opposition  to  their  doctrine,  was  advanced  by  Leibnitz.  To 
this  great  philosopher  belongs  the  honor  of  having  originated 
this  opinion,  and  of  having  supplied  some  of  the  strongest  argu- 
ments in  its  support.  He  was,  however,  unfortunate  in  the 
terms  which  he  employed  to  propound  his  doctrine.  The  latent 
modifications,  —  the  unconscious  activities  of  mind,  he  denom- 
inated obscure  ideas,  obscure  representations,  perceptions  without 


252 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


UNCONSCIOUS  MENTAL  ACTION. 


253 


apperception  or  consciousness,  inseiisible  perceptions,  etc.  In 
this  he  violated  the  universal  usage  of  language.  Yov  percep- 
tion, and  idea,  and  representation,  all  properly  involve  the 
notion  of  consciousness,  —  it  being,  in  fact,  contradictory  to 
speak  of  a  representation  not  really  represented -— a  percep- 
tion not  really  perceived  —  an  actual  idea  of  whose  presence 

we  are  not  aware. 

The   close  affinity  of  mental  modifications  with  perceptions, 
ideas,   representations,   and    the    consequent   commutation  of 
these  terms,  have  been  undoubtedly  the  reasons  why  the  Leib- 
nitzian  doctrine  was  not  more  generally  adopted,  and  why,  in 
France  and  in   Britain, '  succeeding  philosophers  have  almost 
admitted,  as  a  self-evident  truth,  that  there  can  be  no  motUiiea- 
tion  of  mind  devoid  of  consciousness.     As  to  any  refutation  of 
the  Leibnitzian  doctrine,  I  know  of  none.     Condillac  is,  indeed, 
the  only  psychologist  who  can  be  said  to  have  formally  proposed 
the  question.     He,  like  Mr.  Stewart,  attempts  to  explain  why  ^ 
it  can  be  supposed,  that  the  mind  has  modifications  of  which  we 
are  not  conscious,  by  asserting  that  we  are,  in  truth,  conscious 
of  the  modification,  but  that  it  is  immediately  forgotten.    Li 
Germany,   the   doctrine   of  Leibnitz   was   almost   universally 
adopted.     I  am  not  aware  of  a  philosopher  of  the  least  note  by 
whom  it  has  been  rejected. 

This  doctrine  explains  the  ph(Enomena.  — The  third  hypothe- 
sis, then,  —  that  which  employs  the  single  principle  of  latent 
agencies  to  account  for  so  numerous  a  class  of  mental  phrenom- 
ena,  — how  does  it  explain  the  pha^nomenon  under  considera- 
tion? Nothing  can  be  more  simple  and  analogical  than  its 
solution.  As,  to  take  an  example  from  vision,  —  in  the  exter- 
nal perception  of  a  stationary  object,  a  certain  space,  an  ex- 
panse of  surface,  is  necessary  to  the  minimum  visihile ;  in  other 
words,  an  object  of  sight  cannot  come  into  consciousness  unless 
it  be  of  a  certain  size ;  in  like  manner,  in  the  internal  percep- 
tion of  a  series  of  mental  operations,  a  certain  time,  a  certain 
duration,  is  necessary  for  the  smallest  section  of  continuous 
energy  to  which  consciousness  is  competent.  Some  minimum 
of  time  must  be  admitted  as  the  condition  of  consciousness ; 


and  as  time  is  divisible  ad  infinitum,  whatever  minimum  be 
taken,  there  must  be  admitted  to  be,  beyond  the  cognizance  of 
consciousness,  intervals  of  time,  in  which,  if  mental  agencies  be 
performed,  these  will  be  latent  to  consciousness.     K  we  suppose 
that  the  minimum  of  time,  to  which  consciousness  can  descend, 
be  an  interval  called  six,  and  that  six  different  movements  be 
performed  in  this  interval,  these,  it  is  evident,  will  appear  to  con- 
sciousness as  a  simple  indivisible  point  of  modified  time ;  pre- 
cisely as  the  minimum  visibile  appears  as  an  indivisible  point  of 
modified  space.     And,  as  in  the  extended  parts  of  the  minimum 
visibile,  each  must  determine  a  certain  modification  on  the  per- 
cipient subject,  seeing  that  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  only  the 
conjoined  effect  of  its  parts,  in  like  manner,  the  protended  parts 
of  each  conscious  instant,  —  of  each  distinguishable  minimum 
of  time,  —  though  themselves  beyond  the  ken  of  consciousness,' 
must  contribute  to  give  tlie  character  to  the  whole  mental  state 
which  that  instant,  that  minmium,  comprises.     This  being  un- 
derstood, it  is  easy  to  see  how  we  lose  the  consciousness  of  the 
several  acts,  in  the  rapid  succession  of  many  of  our  habits  and 
dexterities.     At  first,  and  before  the  habit  is  acquired,  every 
act  is  slow,  and  we  are  conscious  of  the  effort  of  deliberation, 
choice,  and  volition ;  by  degrees,  the  mind  proceeds  with  less 
vacillation  and  uncertainty ;  at  length,  the  acts  become  secure 
and  precise :  in  proportion  as  this  takes  place,  the  velocity  of 
the  procedure  is  increased,  and  as  this  acceleration  rises,  the 
individual  acts  drop  one  by  one  from  consciousness,  as  we  lose 
the  leaves  in  retiring  further  and  further  from  the  tree ;  and,  at 
last,  we  are  only  aware  of  the  general  state  which  results  from 
these  unconscious  operations,  as  we  can  at  last  only  perceive  the 
greenness  which  results  from  the  unperceived  leaves. 

22 


CHAPTER    XV. 


GENERAL  PH^NO^IENA  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. -DIFFICULTIES 
AND  FACILITIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. -CLASSIFICA- 
TION OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES. 

Before  terminating  the  consideration  of  the  general  phe- 
nomena of  consciousness,  there  are  Three  Principal  Facts, 
which  it  would  be  improper  altogether  to  pass  over  without 
notice,  but  the  full  discussion  of  which  I  reserve  for  Meta- 
physics Proper,  when  we  come  to  establish  upon  their  founda- 
tion our  conclusions  in  regard  to  the  Immateriahty  and  Immor- 
tality of  Mind ;  —  I  mean  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Existence  or 
Substantiality,  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Unity  or  Individuality, 
and  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Identity  or  Personality.  In  regard 
to  these  three  facts,  I  shall,  at  present,  only  attempt  to  give  a 
very  summary  view  of  what  place  they  naturally  occupy  in  our 

psychological  system. 

Self-Existence.  — The  first  of  these  — the  fact  of  our  own 
Existence  —  I  have  already  incidentally  touched  on,  in  giving 
a  view  of  the  various  possible  modes  in  which  the  fact  of  the 
Duality  of  Consciousness  may  be  conditionally  accepted. 

The  various  modifications  of  which  the  tliinking  subject,  Ego, 
is  conscious,  are  accompanied  with  the  feeling,  or  intuition,  or 
l^elief,  —  or  by  whatev.er  name  the  conviction  may  be  called,  — 
that  I,  the  thinking  subject,  exist.  This  feeling  has  been  called 
by  philosophers  the  apperception,  or  consciousness,  of  our  own 
existence  ;  but,  as  it  is  a  simple  and  ultimate  fact  of  conscious- 
ness, though  it  be  clearly  given,  it  cannot  be  defined  or 
described.  And  for  the  same  reason  that  it  cannot  be  defined, 
it  cannot  be  deduced  or  demonstrated ;  and  the  apparent  enthy- 

(254) 


PHENOMENA  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


255 


meme  of  Descartes  —  Cogito  ergo  sum,  [I  think,  therefore  I 
am,]  —  if  really  intended  for  an  inference,  —  if  really  intended 
to  be  more  than  a  simple  enunciation  of  the  proposition,  that 
the  fact  of  our  existence  is  given  in  the  fact  of  our  conscious- 
ness, is  either  tautological  or  false.  Tautological,  because 
nothing  is  contained  in  the  conclusion  which  was  not  explicitly 
given  in  the  premise,  —  the  premise,  Cogito,  I  think,  being  only 
a  grammatical  equation  of  Ego  sum  cogitans,  I  am,  or  exist, 
thinking.  False,  inasmuch  as  there  would,  in  the  first  place,  be 
postulated  the  reality  of  thought  as  a  quality  or  modification, 
and  then,  from  the  fact  of  this  modification,  inferred  the  fact  of 
existence,  and  of  the  existence  of  a  subject ;  whereas  it  is  self- 
evident,  that  in  the  very  possibility  of  a  quality  or  modification, 
is  supposed  the  reality  of  existence,  and  of  an  existing  subject. 
Philosophers  in  general,  among  whom  may  be  particularly 
mentioned  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  have  accordingly  found  the  evi- 
dence in  a  clear  and  immediate  belief  in  the  simple  datum  of 
consciousness ;  and  that  this  was  likewise  the  opinion  of  Des- 
cartes himself,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  show. 

Mental  Unity.  —  The  second  fact  —  our  Mental  Unity  or  In- 
dividuaUty  —  is  given  with  equal  evidence  as  the  first.  As 
clearly  as  I  am  conscious  of  existing,  so  clearly  am  I  conscious 
at  every  moment  of  my  existence,  (and  never  more  so  than 
when  the  most  heterogeneous  mental  modifications  are  in  a  state 
of  rapid  succession,)  that  the  conscious  Ego  is  not  itself  a  mere 
modification,  nor  a  series  of  modifications  of  any  other  subject, 
but  that  it  is  itself  something  different  from  all  its  modifica- 
tions, and  a  self-subsistent  entity.  This  feeling,  belief,  datum, 
or  fact  of  our  mental  individuality  or  unity,  is  not  more  capable 
of  explanation  than  the  feeling  or  fact  of  our  existence,  which 
it  indeed  always  involves.  The  fact  of  the  dehverance  of  con- 
sciousness to  our  mental  unity  has,  of  course,  never  been 
doubted ;  but  philosophers  have  been  found  to  doubt  its  truth. 
According  to  Hume,  our  thinking  Ego  is  nothing  but  a  bundle 
of  individual  impressions  and  ideas,  out  of  whose  union  in  the 
imagination,  the  notion  of  a  whole,  as  of  a  subject  of  that 
which  is  felt  and  thought  is  formed.     According  to  Kant,  it 


CHAPTER    XV. 

GENERAL  PH^XOISIENA  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. -DIFFICULTIES 
AND  FACILITIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. -CLASSIFICA- 
TION OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES. 

Before  terminating  the  consideration  of  the  general  phae- 
nomena  of  consciousness,  there  are  Three  Principal  Facts, 
which  it  would  be  improper  aUogether  to  pass  over  without 
notice,  but  the  full  discussion  of  which  I  reserve  for  Meta- 
physics Proper,  when  we  come  to  establish  upon  their  founda- 
tion our  contusions  in  regard  to  the  Immateriality  and  Immor- 
tality of  Mind ;  —  I  mean  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Existence  or 
SubstantiaUty,  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Unity  or  Individuality, 
and  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Identity  or  Personality.  In  regard 
to  these  three  facts,  I  shall,  at  present,  only  attempt  to  give  a 
very  summary  view  of  what  place  they  naturally  occupy  in  our 
psychological  system. 

Self 'Existence,  —  The  first  of  these  —  the  fact  of  our  own 
Existence  —  I  have  already  incidentally  touched  on,  in  giving 
a  view  of  the  various  possible  modes  in  which  the  tact  of  the 
Duality  of  Consciousness  may  be  conditionally  accepted. 

The  various  modifications  of  which  the  thinking  subject.  Ego, 
is  conscious,  are  accompanied  with  the  feeling,  or  intuition,  or 

l^elief, or  by  whatev.er  name  the  conviction  may  be  called,  — 

that  I,  the  thinking  subject,  exist.  This  feeling  has  been  called 
by  philosophers  the  apperception,  or  consciousness,  of  our  own 
existence ;  but,  as  it  is  a  simple  and  ultimate  fact  of  conscious- 
ness, though  it  be  clearly  given,  it  caimot  be  defined  or 
described.  And  for  the  same  reason  that  it  cannot  be  defined, 
it  cannot  be  deduced  or  demonstrated ;  and  the  apparent  enthy- 
(254) 


PHENOMENA  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


255 


meme  of  Descartes  —  Cogito  ergo  sum,  [I  think,  therefore  I 
am,]  —  if  really  intended  for  an  inference,  —  if  really  intended 
to  be  more  than  a  simple  enunciation  of  the  proposition,  that 
the  fact  of  our  existence  is  given  in  the  fact  of  our  conscious- 
ness, is  either  tautological  or  false.  Tautological,  because 
nothing  is  contained  in  the  conclusion  which  was  not  explicitly 
given  in  the  premise,  —  the  premise,  Cogito,  I  think,  being  only 
a  grammatical  equation  of  Ego  sum  cogitans,  I  am,  or  exist^ 
thinking.  False,  inasmuch  as  there  would,  in  the  first  place,  be 
postulated  the  reality  of  thought  as  a  quality  or  modification, 
and  then,  from  the  fact  of  this  modification,  inferred  the  fact  of 
existence,  and  of  the  existence  of  a  subject ;  whereas  it  is  self- 
evident,  that  in  the  very  possibility  of  a  quality  or  modification, 
is  supposed  the  reality  of  existence,  and  of  an  existing  subject. 
Philosophers  in  general,  among  whom  may  be  particularly 
mentioned  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  have  accordingly  found  the  evi- 
dence in  a  clear  and  immediate  belief  in  the  simple  datum  of 
consciousness ;  and  that  this  was  likewise  the  opinion  of  Des- 
cartes himself,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  show. 

Mental  Unity.  —  The  second  fact  —  our  Mental  Unity  or  In- 
dividuality—  is  given  with  equal  evidence  as  the  first.  As 
cleai'ly  as  I  am  conscious  of  existing,  so  clearly  am  I  conscious 
at  every  moment  of  my  existence,  (and  never  more  so  than 
when  the  most  heterogeneous  mental  modifications  are  in  a  state 
of  rapid  succession,)  that  the  conscious  Ego  is  not  itself  a  mere 
modification,  nor  a  series  of  modifications  of  any  other  subject, 
but  that  it  is  itself  somethini?  different  from  all  its  modifica- 
tions,  and  a  self-subsistent  entity.  This  feeling,  belief,  datum, 
or  fact  of  our  mental  individuality  or  unity,  is  not  more  capable 
of  explanation  than  the  feeling  or  fact  of  our  existence,  which 
it  indeed  always  involves.  The  fact  of  the  deliverance  of  con- 
sciousness to  our  mental  unity  has,  of  course,  never  been 
doubted ;  but  philosophers  have  been  found  to  doubt  its  truth. 
According  to  Hume,  our  thinking  Ego  is  nothing  but  a  bundle 
of  individual  impressions  and  ideas,  out  of  whose  union  in  the 
imagination,  the  notion  of  a  whole,  as  of  a  subject  of  that 
which  is  felt  and  thought  is  formed.     According  to  Kant,  it 


256 


PHENOMENA  OF  CONSCIOUSNESS. 


cannot  be  properly  determined  whether  we  exist  as  substance 
or  as  accident,  because  the  datum  of  individuality  is  a  condition 
of  the  possibility  of  our  having  thoughts  and  feelings ;  in  other 
words,  of  the  possibility  of  consciousness  ;  and,  therefore,  al- 
though consciousness  gives  —  cannot  but  give  —  the  phainom- 
enon  of  individuahty,  it  does  not  follow  that  this  phienomenon 
may  not  be  only  a  necessary  illusion.     An  articulate  refutation 
of  these  opinions  I  cannot  attempt  at  present,  but  their  refuta- 
tion is,  in  fact,  involved  in  their  statement.     In  regard  to  Hume, 
his  sceptical  conclusion  is  only  an  inference  from  the  premises 
of  the  dogmatical  philosophers,  who  founded  their  systems  on  a 
violation  or  distortion  of  the  facts  of  consciousness.     His  con- 
clusion is,  therefore,  refuted  in  the  refutation  of  their  premises, 
wliich  is  accomphshed  in  the  simple  exposition  that  they  at  Ance 
found  on,  and  deny,  the  veracity  of  consciousness.     And  by  this 
objection  the  doctrine  of  Kant  is  overset.     For  if  he  attempts 
to  philosophize,  he  must  assert  the  possibility  of  philosophy. 
But  the  possibility  of  philosophy  supposes  the  veracity  of  con- 
sciousness as  to  the  contents  of  its  testimony ;  therefore,  in  dis- 
puting the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  our  mental  unity  and 
substantiality,  Kant  disputes  the  possibility  of  philosophy,  and, 
consequently,  reduces  his  own  attempts  at  philosophizing  to  ab- 
surdity. 

Mental  Identity. —  The  third  datum  under  consideration  is 
the  Identity  of  Mind  or  Person.  This  consists  in  the  assurance 
we  have,  from  consciousness,  that  our  thinking  Ego,  notwith- 
standing the  ceaseless  changes  of  state  or  modification,  of  which 
it  is  the  subject,  is  essentially  the  same  thing,  —  the  same  per- 
son, at  every  period  of  its  existence.  On  this  subject,  laying 
out  of  account  certain  subordinate  differences  on  the  mode  of 
stating  the  fi\ct,  philosophers,  in  general,  are  agreed.  Locke,  in 
the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  ;  Leibnitz,  in  the  Nou- 
veaux  Fssais ;  Butler  and  Reid  are  particularly  worthy  of 
attention.  In  regard  to  this  deliverance  of  consciousness,  the 
truth  of  which  is  of  vital  importance,  affording,  as  it  does,  the 
basis  of  moral  responsibility  and  hope  of  immortality,  —  it  is, 
like  the  last,  denied  by  Kaiit  to  afford  a  valid  ground  of  scientific 


i 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. 


257 


certainty.  He  maintains  that  there  is  no  cogent  proof  of  the 
substantial  permanence  of  our  thinking  self,  because  the  feeling 
of  identity  is  only  the  condition  under  which  that  thought  is 
possible.  Kant's  doubt  in  regard  to  the  present  fact  is  refuted 
in  the  same  manner  as  his  doubt  in  regard  to  the  preceding,  and 
there  are  also  a  number  of  special  grounds  on  which  it  can  be 
shown  to  be  untenable.     But  of  these  at  another  time. 

The  peculiar  difficulties  of  psychological  investigation.  —  We 
have  now  terminated  the  consideration  of  Consciousness  as  the 
general  faculty  of  thought,  and  as  the  only  instrument  and  only 
source  of  Philosophy.  But  before  proceeding  to  treat  of  the 
Special  Faculties,  it  may  be  proper  here  to  premise  some  obser- 
vations in  relation  to  the  peculiar  Difficulties  and  peculiar  Fa- 
cilities which  we  may  expect  in  the  application  of  consciousness 
to  the  study  of  its  own  phasnomena.  I  shall  first  speak  of  the 
difficulties. 

The  first  difficulty  in  psychological  observation  arises  from 
this,  that  the  conscious  mind  is  at  once  the  observing  subject  and 
the  object  observed.  What  are  the  consequences  of  this  ?  In 
the  first  place,  the  mental  energy,  instead  of  being  concentrated, 
is  divided,  and  divided  in  two  divergent  directions.  The  state 
of  mind  observed,  and  the  act  of  mind  observing,  are  mutually 
in  an  inverse  ratio ;  each  tends  to  annihilate  the  other.  Is  the 
state  to  be  observed  intense,  all  reflex  observation  is  rendered 
impossible ;  the  mind  cannot  view  as  a  spectator ;  it  is  wholly 
occupied  as  an  agent  or  patient.  On  the  other  hand,  exactly  in 
proportion  as  the  mind  concentrates  its  force  in  the  act  of  re- 
flective observation,  in  the  same  proportion  must  the  direct 
phrenomenon  lose  in  vivacity,  and,  consequently,  in  the  precision 
and  individuality  of  its  character.  This  difficulty  is  manifestly 
insuperable  in  those  states  of  mind,  which,  of  their  very  nature, 
as  suppressing  consciousness,  exclude  all  contemporaneous  and 
voluntary  observation,  as  in  sleep  and  fainting.  In  states  like 
dreaming,  which  allow  at  least  of  a  mediate,  but,  therefore,  only 
of  an  imperfect,  observation,  through  recollection,  it  is  not  alto- 
gether exclusive.     In  all  states  of  strong  mental  emotion,  the 

22* 


258 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. 


259 


passion  is  itself,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  negation  of  the  tranquil- 
lity requisite  for  observation,  so  that  we  are  thus  impaled  on  the 
awkward  dilemma,  —  either  we  possess  the  necessary  tranquil- 
lity for  observation,  with  little  or  nothing  to  observe,  or  there 
is  something  to  observe,  but  we  have  not  the  necessary  tran- 
quillity for  observation.  All  this  is  completely  opposite  in 
our  observation  of  the  external  world.  There  the  objects  he 
always  ready  for  our  inspection  ;  and  we  have  only  to  open  our 
eyes,  and  guard  ourselves  from  the  use  of  hypotheses  and  green 
spectacles,  to  carry  our  observations  to  an  easy  and  successful 
termination. 

Want  of  mutual  cooperation.  —  In  the  second  place,  'in  the 
study  of  external  nature,  several  observers  may  associate  them- 
selves in  the  pursuit ;  and  it  is  well  known  how  cooperation  and 
mutual  sympathy  preclude  tedium  and  languor,  and  brace  up 
the  faculties  to  their  highest  vigor.  Hence  the  old  proverb, 
units  homo,  nullus  homo.  "As  iron,"  says  Solomon,  " sharpen- 
eth  iron,  so  a  man  sharpeneth  the  understanding  of  his  friend." 
"In  my  opinion,"  says  Plato,  "it  is  well  expressed  by  Homer, 

By  mutual  confidence  and  mutual  aid, 

Great  deeds  arc  done,  and  great  discoveries  made ; ' 

for  if  Ave  labor  in  company,  we  are  always  more  prompt  and 
capable  for  the  investigation  of  any  hidden  matter.  But  if  a 
man  works  out  any  thmg  by  soUtary  meditation,  he  forthwitli 
goes  about  to  find  some  one  with  whom  he  may  commune,  nor 
does  he  think  his  discovery  assured  until  confirmed  by  the  ac- 
quiescence of  others."  Aristotle,  in  like  manner,  referring  to  tlie 
same  passage  of  Homer,  gives  the  same  solution.  "  Social  oper- 
ation," he  says,  "  renders  us  more  energetic  both  in  thought  and 
action."  Of  this  advantage  the  student  of  Mind  is  in  a  great 
measure  deprived.  He  who  would  study  the  internal  world  must 
isolate  himself  in  the  solitude  of  his  own  thought ;  and  for  man, 
w^ho,  as  Aristotle  observes,  is  more  social  by  nature  than  any 
bee  or  ant,  this  isolation  is  not  only  painful  in  itself,  but,  in 
place  of  strengthening  his  powers,  tends  to  rob  them  of  what 
maintains  their  vigor  and  stimulates  their  exertion. 


No  fact  of  consciousness  can  he  accepted  at  second  hand.  —  In 
the  third  place,  "  In  the  study  of  the  material  universe,"  [says 
Cardaillac,]  "  it  is  not  necessary  that  each  observer  should  him- 
self make  every  observation.  The  phsenomena  are  here  so 
palpable  and  so  easily  described,  that  the  experience  of  one  ob- 
server suffices  to  make  the  facts  which  he  has  witnessed  intelli- 
gible and  credible  to  all.  In  point  of  fact,  our  knowledge  of  the 
extemal  world  is  taken  chiefly  upon  trust.  The  phaenomena  of 
the  internal  world,  on  the  contrary,  are  not  thus  capable  of  being 
described ;  all  that  the  first  observer  can  do  is  to  lead  others  to 
repeat  his  experience :  in  the  science  of  mind,  we  can  believe 
nothing  upon  authority,  take  nothing  upon  trust.  In  the  physi- 
cal sciences,  a  fact  viewed  in  different  aspects  and  in  different 
circumstances,  by  one  or  more  observers  of  acknowledged 
sagacity  and  good  faith,  is  not  only  comprehended  as  clearly  by 
those  who  have  not  seen  it  for  themselves,  but  is  also  admitted 
without  hesitation,  independently  of  all  personal  verification. 
Instruction  thus  suffices  to  make  it  understood,  and  the  authority 
of  tlie  testimony  carries  with  it  a  certainty  which  almost  pre- 
cludes the  possibility  of  doubt. 

"  But  tliis  is  not  the  case  in  the  pliilosophy  of  mind.  On  the 
contrary,  we  can  here  neither  understand  nor  believe  at  second 
hand.  Testimony  can  impose  nothing  on  its  own  authority; 
and  instruction  is  only  instruction  when  it  enables  us  to  teach 
ourselves.  A  fact  of  consciousness,  however  well  observed, 
however  clearly  expressed,  and  however  great  may  be  our  con- 
fidence in  its  observer,  is  for  us  as  nothing,  until^  by  an  expe- 
rience of  our  own,  we  have  observed  and  recognized  it  our- 
selves. Till  this  be  done,  we  cannot  comprehend  what  it  means, 
far  less  admit  it  to  be  true.  Hence  it  follows  that,  in  philoso- 
phy proper,  instruction  is  limited  to  an  indication  of  the  position 
in  which  the  pupil  ought  to  place  himself,  in  order,  by  his  own 
observation,  to  verify  for  himself  the  facts  which  his  instructor 
proncfimces  true." 

Phcenomena  of  consciousness  only  to  he  studied  through  mem- 
ory.—  In  the  fourth  place,  the  phaenomena  of  consciousness  are 
not  arrested  during  observation ;  —  they  are  in  a  ceaseless  and 


260 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. 


261 


rapid  flow ;  each  state  of  mind  is  indivisible  but  for  a  moment, 
and  there  are  not  two  states  or  two  moments  of  whose  precise 
identity  we  can  be  assured.  Thus,  before  we  can  observe  a 
modification,  it  is  already  altered ;  nay,  the  very  intention  of 
observing  it,  suffices  for  the  change.  It  hence  results  that  the 
phaenomenon  can  only  be  studied  through  its  reminiscence ;  but 
memory  reproduces  it  often  very  imperfectly,  and  always  in 
lower  vivacity  and  precision.  The  objects  of  the  external 
world,  on  the  other  hand,  remain  either  unaltered  during  our 
observation,  or  can  be  renew^ed  without  change ;  and  we  can 
leave  off  at  will,  and  recommence  our  investigation,  without 
detriment  to  its  result. 

Presented  only  in  succession.  —  In  the  Jifth  place,  "  The 
phcTBuomena  of  the  mental  world,"  [says  Biunde,]  "are  not, 
like  those  of  the  material,  placed  by  the  side  of  each  other  in 
space.  They  want  that  form  by  which  external  objects  attract 
and  fetter  our  attention ;  they  appear  only  in  rows  on  the 
thread  of  time,  occupying  their  fleeting  moment,  and  then  van- 
ishing into  oblivion ;  whereas,  external  objects  stand  before  us 
steadfast,  and  distinct,  and  simultaneous,  in  all  the  life  and 
emphasis  of  extension,  figure,  and  color." 

Naturally  blend  with  each  other.  —  In  the  sixth  place,  the 
perceptions  of  the  different  qualities  of  external  objects  are 
decisively  discriminated  by  different  corporeal  organs,  so  that 
color,  sound,  solidity,  odor,  flavor,  are,  in  the  sensations  them- 
selves, contrasted,  without  the  possibility  of  confusion.  In  an 
individual  sense,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  not  always  easy  to  draw 
the  line  of  separation  between  its  perceptions,  as  these  are  con- 
tinually running  into  each  other.  Thus  red  and  yellow  are,  in 
their  extreme  points,  easily  distinguished,  but  the  transition 
point  from  one  to  the  other  is  not  precisely  determined.  Now, 
in  our  internal  observation,  the  mental  phaenomena  cannot  be 
discriminated  like  the  perceptions  of  one  sense  from  the  per- 
ceptions of  another,  but  only  like  the  perceptions  of  the'^ame. 
Thus  the  phaenomenon  of  feeling,  of  pleasure  or  pain,  and 
the  phenomenon  of  desire,  are,  when  considered  in  their  re- 
moter divergent  aspects,  manifestly  marked  out  and  contradis- 


tin<^uished  as  different  original  modifications;  whereas,  when 
viewed  on  their  approximating  side,  they  are  seen  to  slide  so 
insensibly  into  each  other,  that  it  becomes  impossible  to  draw 
between  them  any  accurate  line  of  demarcation.  Thus  the 
various  qualities  of  our  internal  life  can  be  alone  discriminated 
by  a  mental  process  called  Abstraction ;  and  abstraction  is  ex- 
posed to  many  liabilities  of  error.  Nay,  the  various  mental 
operations  do  not  present  themselves  distinct  and  separate; 
they  are  all  bound  up  in  the  same  unity  of  action ;  and  as  they 
arc  only  possible  through  each*  other,  they  cannot,  even  in 
thought,  be  dealt  with  as  isolated  and  apart.  In  the  perception 
of  an  external  object,  the  qualities  are,  indeed,  likewise  pre- 
sented by  the  different  senses  in  connection,  as,  for  example, 
vinegar  is  at  once  seen  as  yellow,  felt  as  liquid,  tasted  as  sour, 
and  so  on ;  nevertheless,  the  qualities  easily  allow  themselves  in 
abstraction  to  be  viewed  as  really  separable,  because  they  are  all 
the  properties  of  an  extended  and  divisible  body  ;  whereas  in  the 
mind,  thoughts,  feelings,  desires,  do  not  stand  separate,  though 
in  juxtaposition,  but  every  mental  act  contains  at  once  all  these 
qualities,  as  the  constituents  of  its  indivisible  simplicity. 

Self-observation  costs  painfid  effort.  —  In  the  seventh  place, 
the  act  of  reflection  on  our  internal  modifications  is  not  accom- 
panied with  that  frequent  and  varied  sentiment  of  pleasure, 
whicli  we  experience  from  the  impression  of  external  things. 
Self-observation  costs  us  a  greater  effort,  and  has  less  excite- 
ment than  the  contemplation  of  the  material  world ;  and  the 
higher  and  more  refined  gratification,  which  it  supplies  when  its 
habit  has  been  once  formed,  cannot  be  conceived  by  those  who 
have  not  as  yet  been  trained  to  its  enjoyment.  "  The  first  part 
of  our  life,"  [says  Cardaillac,]  "  is  fled  before  we  possess  the 
capacity  of  reflective  observation ;  while  the  impressions  which, 
from  earliest  infancy,  we  receive  from  material  objects,  the 
wants  of  our  animal  nature,  and  the  prior  development  of  our 
external  senses,  all  contribuv3  to  concentrate,  even  from  the 
first  breath  of  life,  our  attention  on  the  world  without.  The 
second  passes  without  our  caHng  to  observe  ourselves.  The 
outer  life  is  too  a"creeable  to  allow  the  soul  to  tear  itself  from 


262 


FACILITIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY. 


its  gratifications,  and  return  frequently  upon  itself.  And  at  the 
period  when  the  material  world  has  at  length  palled  upon  the 
senses,  when  the  taste  and  the  desire  of  reflection  gradually 
become  predominant,  we  then  find  ourselves,  in  a  certain  sort, 
already  made  up,  and  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  resume  our  life 
from  its  commencement,  and  to  discover  how  we  have  become 
what  we  now  are."  "Hitherto,"  [says  Ancillon,]  "external 
objects  have  exclusively  riveted  our  attention  ;  our  organs  have 
acquired  the  flexibility  requisite  for  this  peculiar  kind  of  obser- 
vation ;  we  have  learned  the  method,  acquired  the  habit,  and 
feel  the  pleasure  which  results  from  performing  what  we  per- 
form with  ease.  But  let  us  recoil  upon  ourselves ;  the  scene 
changes  ;  the  charm  is  gone  ;  difficulties  accumulate ;  all  that  is 
done,  is  done  irksomely  and  with  effort ;  in  a  word,  every  thing 
within  repels,  every  thing  without  attracts ;  we  reach  the  age 
of  manhood  without  being  taught  another  lesson  than  reading 
what  takes  place  without  and  around  us,  whilst  we  possess 
neither  the  habit  nor  the  method  of  studying  the  volume  of  our 
own  thoughts."  "  For  a  long  time,  we  are  too  absorbed  in  hfe 
to  be  able  to  detach  ourselves  from  it  in  thought ;  and  when  the 
desires  and  the  feelings  are  at  length  weakened  or  tranquil- 
lized, —  when  we  are  at  length  restored  to  ourselves,  we  can  no 
longer  judge  of  the  preceding  state,  because  we  can  no  longer 
reproduce  or  replace  it.  Thus  it  is  that  our  life,  in  a  philo- 
sophical sense,  runs  like  water  through  our  fingers.  We  are 
carried  along  lost,  whelmed  in  our  life  ;  we  live,  but  rarely  see 
ourselves  to  live. 

"  The  reflective  Ego,  which  distinguishes  self  from  its  transi- 
tory modifications,  and  which  separates  the  spectator  from  the 
spectacle  of  life,  which  it  is  continually  representing  to  itself,  is 
never  developed  in  the  majority  of  mankind  at  all ;  and  even  in 
the  thoughtful  and  reflective  few,  it  is  formed  only  at  a  mature 
period,  and  is  even  then  only  in  activity  by  starts  and  at  mter- 
vals." 

The  facilities  of  philosophical  study.  —  But  Philosophy  has 
not  only  pecuUar  dilficulties,  it  has  also  pecuhar  faciUties. 
There  is,  indeed,  only  one  external  condition  on  wliich  it  is 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES.        263 

dependent,  and  that  is  language ;  and  when,  in  the  progress  of 
civilization,  a  language  is  once  formed  of  a  copiousness  and  pli- 
ability capable  of  embodying  its  abstractions  without  figurative 
ambi fruity,  then  a  genuine  philosophy  may  commence.  With 
this  one  condition,  all  is  given ;  the  Philosopher  requires  for  his 
discoveries  no  preliminary  preparations,  —  no  apparatus  of 
instruments  and  materials.  He  has  no  new  events  to  seek,  as 
the  Historian ;  no  new  combinations  to  form,  as  the  Mathema- 
tician. The  Botanist,  the  Zoologist,  the  Mineralogist,  can  accu- 
mulate only  by  care,  and  trouble,  and  expense,  an  inadequate 
assortment  of  the  objects  necessary  for  their  labors  and  obser- 
vations. But  that  most  important  and  interesting  of  all  studies 
of  which  man  himself  is  the  object,  has  no  need  of  any  thing 
external ;  it  is  only  necessary  that  the  observer  enter  into  his 
inner  self,  in  order  to  find  there  all  he  stands  in  need  of,  or 
rather  it  is  only  by  doing  this,  that  he  can  hope  to  find  any 
thing  at  all.  If  he  only  effectively  pursue  the  method  of  ob- 
servation and  analysis,  he  may  even  dispense  with  the  study  of 
philosophical  systems.  This  is  at  best  only  useful  as  a  mean 
towards  a  deeper  and  more  varied  study  of  himself,  and  is  often 
only  a  tribute  paid  by  philosophy  to  erudition. 

We  have  now  concluded  the  consideration  of  Consciousness, 
viewed  in  its  more  general  relations,  and  shall  proceed  to  an- 
alyze its  more  particular  modifications,  that  is,  to  consider  the 
various  Special  Faculties  of  Knowledge. 

It  is  here  proper  to  recall  to  your  attention  the  division  I 
gave  of  the  Mental  Phcenomena  into  three  gi-eat  classes, — 
namely,  the  phaenomena  of  Knowledge,  the  phaenomena  of 
Feeling,  and  the  phaenomena  of  Conation.  But  as  these  vari- 
ous phaenomena  all  suppose  Consciousness  as  their  condition,  — 
those  of  the  first  class,  the  phaenomena  of  Knowledge,  being, 
indeed,  nothinji  but  consciousness  in  various  relations,  —  it  was 
necessary,  before  descending  to  the  consideration  of  the  subor- 
dinate, first  to  exhaust  the  principal ;  and  in  domg  this,  the 
discussion  has  been  protracted  to  a  greater  length  than  I  antici- 
pated. 

I  now  proceed  to  the  particular  investigation  of  the  first  class 


264       DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE   FACULTIES. 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE    FACULTIES.        265 


of  the  mental  phsenomena,  —  those  of  Knowledge  or  Cognition 
—  and  shall  commence  by  delineating  to  you  the  distribution  of 
the  cognitive  faculties  which  I  shall  adopt ;  —  a  distribution  dif- 
ferent  from  any  other  with  w^hich  I  am  acquainted.  But  I  would 
first  premise  an  observation  in  regard  to  psychological  powers 
and  to  psychological  divisions. 

Mental  powers  not  distinguishable  from  the  thinking  principle, 
nor  from  each  other.  —  As  to  mental   powers,  —  under  which 
term  are  included  mental  faculties  and  capacities,  —  you  are  not 
to  suppose   entities   really  distinguishable   from   the   thinkiurr 
principle,  or  really  different  from  each  other.     Mental  powers 
are  not  like  bodily  organs.     It  is  the  same  simple  substance 
which  exerts  every  energy  of  every  fiiculty,  however  various, 
and  which  is  affected  in  every  mode  of  every  capacity,  however 
opposite.     This  has  frequently  been  wilfully  or  ignorantly  mis- 
understood ;  and,  among  others,  Dr.  Brown  has  made  it  a  mat- 
ter of  reproach  to  philosophers  in  general,  that  they  regarded 
the  faculties  into  which  they  analyzed  the  mind  as  so  many  dis- 
tinct and  independent  existences.     No  reproach,  how^ever,  can 
be  more  unjust,  no  mistake  more  flagrant ;  and  it  can  easily  be 
shown  that  this  is  perhaps  the  charge,  of  all  others,  to  which  the 
very  smallest  number  of  psychologists  need  plead  guilty.     On 
this  point.  Dr.  Brown  does  not,  however,  stand  alone  as  an  ac- 
cuser ;  and,  both  before  and  since  his  time,  the  same  char<Te  has 
been  once  and  again  preferred,  and  this,  in  particular,  with  sin- 
gular infelicity,  against  Reid  and  Stewart.     To  speak  only  of 
the  latter,  —  he  sufficiently  declares  his  opinion  on  the  subject 
in  a  foot-note  of  the  Dissertation :  —  "I  quote,"  he  says,  " the 
following  passage  from  Addison,  7iot  as  a  specimen  of  his  meta- 
physical acumen,  but  as  a  proof  of  his  good  sense  in  divining 
and  obviating  a  difficulty,  which,  I  believe,  most  persons  will 
acknowledge  occurred  to  themselves  when  they  first  entered  on 
metaphysical  studies :  — '  Although  we  divide  the  soul  into  sev- 
eral pow^ers  and  faculties,  there  is  no  such  division  in  the  soul 
itself,  since  it  is  the  whole  soul  that  remembers,  understands, 
willr^,  or  imagines.     Our  manner  of  considering  the  memory, 
understanding,  will,  imagination,  and  the  like  faculties,  is  for  the 


better  enabhng  us  to  express  ourselves  in  such  abstracted  sub- 
jects of  speculations,  not  that  there  is  any  such  division  in  the 
soul  itself.'  In  another  part  of  the  same  paper,  Addison  ob- 
serves, *  that  what  w^e  call  the  faculties  of  the  soul  are  only  the 
different  w^ays  or  modes  in  which  the  soul  can  exert  herself.' " 

What  IS  a  mental  power  ?  —  I  shall  first  state  to  you  wdiat  is 
intended  by  the  terms  mental  power,  faculty,  or  capacity  ;  and 
then  show  you  that  no  other  opinion  has  been  generally  held  by 
philosophers. 

It  is  a  fact  too  notorious  to  be  denied,  that  the  mind  is  capa- 
ble of  different  modifications,  —  that  is,  can  exert  different  actions, 
and  can  be  affected  by  different  passions.  This  is  admitted. 
But  these  actions  and  passions  are  not  all  dissimilar;  every 
action  and  passion  is  not  different  from  every  other.  On  the 
contrary,  they  are  like,  and  they  are  unlike.  Those,  therefore, 
that  are  like,  we  group  or  assort  together  in  thought,  and  bestow 
on  them  a  common  name ;  nor  are  these  groups  or  assortments 
manifold,  —  they  are  in  fact  few  and  simple.  Again,  every 
action  is  an  effect;  every  action  and  passion  a  modification. 
But  every  effect  supposes  a  cause ;  every  modification  supposes 
a  subject.  When  we  say  that  the  mind  exerts  an  energy,  we 
virtually  say  that  the  mind  is  the  cause  of  the  energy ;  when 
we  say  that  the  mind  acts  or  suffers,  w^e  say  in  other  words,  that 
the  mind  is  the  subject  of  a  modification.  But  the  modifications, 
that  is,  the  actions  and  passions,  of  the  mind,  as  we  stated,  all 
fall  into  a  few  resembhng  groups,  which  w^e  designate  by  a  pe- 
cuhar  name ;  and  as  the  mind  is  the  common  cause  and  subject 
of  all  these,  we  are  surely  entitled  to  say  in  general  that  the 
mind  has  the  faculty  of  exerting  such  and  such  a  class  of  ener- 
gies, or  has  the  capacity  of  being  modified  by  such  and  such  an 
order  of  affections.  We  here  excogitate  no  new,  no  occult 
principle.  We  only  generalize  certain  effects,  and  then  infer 
tiiat  common  effects  must  have  a  common  cause ;  we  only  clas- 
sify certain  modes,  and  conclude  that  similar  modes  indicate  the 
same  capacity  of  being  modified.  There  is  nothing  in  all  this 
contrary  to  the  most  rigid  rules  of  philosophizing ;  nay,  it  is  the 
purest  specimen  of  the  inductive  philosophy. 

23 


266        DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE    FACULTIES. 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE   FACULTIES.        267 


On  this  doctrine,  a  faculty  is  nothing  more  than  a  general 
term  for  the  causality  the  mind  has  of  originating  a  certain  class 
of  energies ;  a  capacity^  only  a  general  term  for  the  susceptibil- 
ity the  mind  has  of  being  affected  by  a  particular  kind  of  emo- 
tions. All  mental  powers  are  thus,  in  short,  nothing  more  than 
names  determined  by  various  orders  of  mental  pha3nomena. 
But  as  these  pha3nomena  differ  from,  and  resemble,  each  ofher 
in  various  respects,  various  modes  of  classification  may,  there- 
fore, be  adopted,  and  consequently,  various  faculties  and  capaci- 
ties, in  different  views,  may  be  the  result. 

Value  of  Philosophical  System.  —  And  this  is  what  we  actu- 
ally see  to  be  the  case  in  the  different  systems  of  philosophy ; 
for  each  system  of  philosophy  is  a  different  view  of  the  phaj- 
nomena  of  mind.  Now,  here  I  would  observe  that  we  might 
fiiU  into  one  or  other  of  two  errors,  either  by  attributing  too 
great  or  too  small  importance  to  a  systematic  arrangement  of 
the  mental  pha;uomena.  It  must  be  conceded  to  those  who  af- 
fect to  undervalue  psychological  system,  that  system  is  neither 
the  end  first  in  the  order  of  time,  nor  that  paramount  in  the  scale 
of  importance.  To  attemj)!  a  definitive  system  or  synthesis,  be- 
fore we  have  fully  analyzed  and  accumulated  the  facts  to  be  ar- 
ranged, would  be  preposterous,  and  necessarily  futile ;  and 
system  is  only  valuable  when  it  is  not  arbitrarily  devised,  but 
arises  naturally  out  of  an  observation  of  the  facts,  and  of  the 
whole  facts  themselves ;  xtj^  TtoVS;^;  Tteina^'  relnnaiov  tntyhi'mm. 

On  the  other  hand,  to  despise  system  is  to  despise  philosophy ; 
for  the  end  of  philosophy  is  the  detection  of  unity.  Even  in 
the  progress  of  a  science,  and  long  prior  to  its  consummation,  it 
is  indeed  better  to  assort  the  materials  we  have  accumulated, 
even  though  the  arrangement  be  only  temporary,  only  provis- 
ional, than  to  leave  them  in  confusion.  For  without  such  ar- 
rangement, we  are  unable  to  overlook  our  possessions ;  and  as 
experiment  results  from  the  experiment  it  supersedes,  so  system 
is  destined  to  generate  system  in  a  progress  never  attaining,  but 
ever  approximating  to,  perfection. 

Having  stated  what  a  psychological  power  in  propriety  is,  I 
may  add  that  this,  and  not  the  other,  opinion,  has  been  the  one 


prevalent  in  the  various  schools  and  ages  of  philosophy.  I 
could  adduce  to  you  passages  in  which  the  doctrine  that  the 
faculties  and  capacities  are  more  than  mere  possible  modes,  in 
which  the  simple  indivisible  principle  of  thought  may  act  and 
exist,  is  exphcitly  denied  by  [many  of]  the  fathers  of  the 
Church,  by  [many  of]  the  Platonists,  the  Aristotelians,  and  by 
the  whole  host  of  recent  philosophers.  During  the  middle  ages, 
the  question  was  indeed  one  which  divided  the  schools.  St. 
Thomas,  at  the  head  of  one  party,  held  that  the  faculties  were 
distinguished  not  only  from  each  other,  but  from  the  essence  of 
the  mind ;  and  this,  as  they  phrased  it,  really  and  not  formally. 
Henry  of  Ghent,  at  the  head  of  another  party,  maintained  a 
modified  opinion,  —  that  the  faculties  were  really  distinguished 
from  each  other,  but  not  from  the  essence  of  the  soul.  Scotus, 
again,  followed  by  Occam  and  the  whole  sect  of  Nominalists, 
denied  all  real  difference  either  between  the  several  faculties,  or 
between  the  faculties  and  the  mind  ;  allowing  between  them 
onlv  a  formal  or  losrical  distinction.  This  last  is  the  doctrine 
that  has  subsequently  prevailed  in  the  latter  ages  of  philosophy  ; 
and  it  is  a  proof  of  its  universality,  that  few  modern  psycholo- 
gists have  ever  thought  it  necessary  to  make  an  exphcit  profes- 
sion of  their  faith  in  what  they  silently  assumed.  No  accusation 
can,  therefore,  be  more  ungrounded  than  that  which  has  been 
directed  against  philosophers,  —  that  they  have  generally  har- 
bored the  opinion  that  faculties  are,  like  organs  in  the  body, 
distinct  constituents  of  mind.  The  Aristotelic  principle,  that  in 
relation  to  the  body,  "  the  soul  is  all  in  the  whole  and  all  in 
every  part,"  —  that  it  is  the  same  indivisible  mind  that  operates 
in  sense,  in  imagination,  in  memory,  in  reasoning,  etc.,  differ- 
ently indeed,  but  differently  only  because  operating  in  different 
relations,  —  this  opinion  is  the  one  dominant  among  psycholo- 
gists, and  the  one  which,  though  not  always  formally  proclaimed, 
must,  if  not  positively  disclaimed,  be  in  justice  presumptively 
attributed  to  every  philosopher  of  mind.  Those  who  employed 
the  old  and  familiar  language  of  philosophy  meant,  in  truth, 
exactly  the  same  as  those  who  would  establish  a  new  doctrine 
on  a  newfansled  nomenclature. 


268        DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE   COGNITIVE  FACULTIES. 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES.        269 


What  is  Psychological  Division  ?  —  From  what  I  have  now 
said,  you  will  be  better  prepared  for  what  I  am  about  to  state 
in  regard  to  the  classitication  of  the  first  great  order  of  mental 
phienomena,  and  the  distribution  of  the  faculties  of  Knowledge 
founded  thereon.  I  formerly  told  you  that  the  mental  quali- 
ities  —  the  mental  phienomena  —  are  never  presented  to  us 
separately  ;  they  are  always  in  conjunction,  and  it  is  only  by  an 
ideal  analysis  and  abstraction  that,  for  the  purposes  of  science, 
they  can  be  discriminated  and  considered  apart.  The  prob- 
lem proposed  in  such  an  analysis  is  to  find  the  primary  threads 
which,  in  their  composition,  form  the  complex  tissue  of  thought. 
In  what  ought  to  be  accomplished  by  such  an  analysis,  all  phi- 
losophers are  agreed,  however  different  may  have  been  the 
result  of  their  attempts.  I  shall  not  state  and  criticize  the  vari- 
ous classifications  propounded  of  the  cognitive  faculties,  as  I 
did  not  state  and  criticize  the  classifications  propounded  of  the 
mentcd  pha^nomena  in  general.  The  reasons  are  the  same. 
You  would  be  confused,  not  edified.  I  shall  only  delineate  the 
distribution  of  the  faculties  of  knowledge,  which  I  have 
adopted,  and  endeavor  to  afford  you  some  general  insight  into 
its  principles.  At  present,  I  limit  my  consideration  to  the 
pha?nomena  of  Knowledge ;  w^ith  the  two  other  classes  —  the 
pha^nomena  of  Feeling  and  the  pha^nomena  of  Conation  —  we 
have  at  present  no  concern. 

I  again  repeat  that  consciousness  constitutes,  or  is  coexten- 
sive with,  all  our  faculties  of  knowledge,  —  these  faculties 
being  only  special  modifications  under  which  consciousness  is 
manifested.  It  being,  therefore,  understood  that  consciousness 
is  not  a  special  faculty  of  knowledge,  but  the  general  faculty 
out  of  which  the  special  faculties  of  knowledge  are  evolved,  I 
proceed  to  this  evolution. 

I.  Tfie  Presentative  Faculty.  —  In  the  first  place,  as  we  ai'e 
endowed  wuth  a  faculty  of  Cognition,  or  Consciousness  in  gen- 
eral, and  since  it  cannot  be  maintained  that  we  have  always 
possessed  the  knowledge  which  we  now  possess,  it  will  be 
admitted,  that  we  must  have  a  faculty  of  acquiring  knowledge. 
But  this  acquisition  of  knowledge  can  only  be  accomplished  by 


the  immediate  presentation  of  a  new  object  to  consciousness,  in 
other  words,  by  the  reception  of  a  new  object  within  the  sphere 
of  our  cognition.  We  have  thus  a  faculty  w^hich  may  be  called 
the  Acquisitive,  or  the  Presentative,  or  the  Receptive.  The 
term  Presentative  I  use,  as  you  will  see,  in  contrast  and  correla- 
tion to  a  Representative  Faculty,  of  which  I  am  immediately  to 
speak. 

Subdivided  into  Perception  and  Self-Consciousness.  —  Now, 
new  or  adventitious  knowledge  may  be  either  of  things  exter- 
nal, or  of  things  internal ;  in  other  w^ords,  either  of  the  phoe- 
nomena  of  the  Non-ego,  or  of  the  pha^nomena  of  the  Ego ;  and 
this  distinction  of  object  w^ill  determine  a  subdivision  of  this, 
the  Acquisitive  Faculty.  If  the  object  of  knowledge  be  ex- 
ternal, the  faculty  receptive  or  presentative  of  the  qualities  of 
such  object  will  be  a  consciousness  of  the  Non-ego.  This  has 
obtained  the  name  of  External  Perception,  or  of  Perception 
simply.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  object  be  internal,  the 
faculty  receptive  or  presentative  of  the  qualities  of  such  sub- 
ject-object will  be  a  consciousness  of  the  Ego.  This  faculty 
obtains  the  name  of  Internal  or  Reflex  Perception,  or  of  Self- 
Consciousness.  By  the  foreign  psychologists,  tliis  faculty  is 
termed  also  the  Internal  Sense. 

Under  the  general  faculty  of  cognition  is  thus,  in  the  first 
place,  distinguished  an  Acquisitive,  or  Presentative,  or  Recep- 
tive Faculty ;  and  this  acquisitive  faculty  is  subdivided  into  the 
consciousness  of  the  Non-ego,  or  External  Perception  simply, 
and  into  the  consciousness  of  the  Ego,  or  Self-Consciousness,  or 
Internal  Perception. 

This  acquisitive  faculty  is  the  faculty  of  Experience.  It 
affords  us  exclusively  all  the  knowledge  we  possess  a  posteriori ; 
that  is,  our  wdiole  contingent  knowledge,  —  our  wdiole  knowl- 
edge of  fact.  External  perception  is  the  faculty  of  external, 
self-consciousness  is  the  faculty  of  internal,  experience.  If  we 
limit  the  term  Reflection  in  conformity  to  its  original  employ- 
ment and  proper  signification,  —  an  attention  to  the  internal 
phaenomena,  —  reflection  wdll  be  an  expression  for  self-con- 
sciousness concentrated. 

23* 


270       DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES. 

n.  The  Conservative  Faculty.  —  In  the  second  place,  inas- 
much as  we  are  capable  of  knowledge,  we  must  be  endowed 
not  only  with  a  faculty  of  acquiring,  but  with  a  faculty  of  re- 
taining or  conserving  it  when  acquired.  By  this  faculty,  I 
mean  merely,  and  in  the  most  limited  sense,  the  power  of  men- 
tal retention.  If  our  knowledge  of  any  object  terminated 
when  the  object  ceased  to  exist,  or  to  exist  within  the  sphere  of 
consciousness,  our  knowledge  would  hardly  deserve  the  name ; 
for  what  we  actually  perceive  by  the  faculties  of  external  and 
of  internal  perception  is  but  an  infinitesimal  part  of  the  knowl- 
edge which  we  actually  possess.  We  have  thus,  as  a  second 
necessary  faculty,  one  that  may  be  called  the  Conservative  or 
Retentive.  This  is  Memory  strictly  so  denominated,  —  that  is, 
the  power  of  retaining  knowledge  in  the  mind,  but  out  of  con- 
sciousness ;  I  say  retaining  knowledge  in  the  mind,  but  out  of 
consciousness,  for  to  bring  the  retentiun  out  of  memory  into 
consciousness  is  the  function  of  a  totally  different  faculty,  of 
which  we  are  immediately  to  speak.  Under  the  general  faculty 
of  cognition  is  thus,  in  the  second  place,  distinguished  the  Con- 
servative or  Retentive  Faculty,  or  Memory  Proper.  Whether 
there  be  subdivisions  of  this  faculty,  we  shall  not  here  inquire. 

III.  The  Reproductive  Faculty.  —  But,  in  the  third  place,  if 
we  are  capable  of  knowledge,  it  is  not  enough  that  we  possess  a 
faculty  of  acquiring,  and  a  faculty  of  retaining  it  in  the  mind, 
but  out  of  consciousness ;  we  must  further  be  endowed  with  a 
faculty  of  recalling  it  out  of  unconsciousness  into  consciousness, 
in  short,  a  reproductive  powder.  This  Reproductive  Faculty  is 
governed  by  the  laws  which  regulate  the  succession  of  our 
thoughts,  —  the  laws,  as  they  are  called,  of  Mental  Association. 
If  these  laws  are  allowed  to  operate  without  the  intervention 
of  the  will,  tliis  facidty  may  be  called  Suggestion^  or  Sponta- 
neous Suggestion ;  whereas,  if  applied  under  the  influence  of 
the  will,  it  will  properly  obtain  the  name  of  Beminiscetice,  or 
Recollection.  By  reproduction,  it  should  be  observed,  that  I 
strictly  mean  the  process  of  recovering  the  absent  thought  from 
unconsciousness,  and  not  its  representation  in  consciousness. 
This  reproductive  faculty  is  commonly  confounded   with  the 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES.        271 

conservative,  under  the  name  of  Memory ;  but  most  errone- 
ously. These  qualities  of  mind  are  totally  unlike,  and  are  pos- 
sessed by  different  individuals  in  the  most  different  degrees. 
Some  have  a  strong  faculty  of  conservation,  and  a  feeble  fac- 
ulty of  reproduction ;  others,  again,  a  prompt  and  active  rem- 
iniscence, but  an  evanescent  retention.  Under  the  general 
faculty  of  cognition,  there  is  thus  discriminated,  in  the  third 
place,  the  Re})roductive  Faculty. 

IV.  The  Representative  Facidty.  —  In  the  fourth  place,  as 
capable  of  knowledge,  we  must  not  only  be  endowed  with  a 
presentative,  a  conserv^ative,  and  9.  reproductive  faculty ;  there 
is  required  for  their  consummation  —  for  the  keystone  of  the 
arch  —  a  faculty  of  representing  in  consciousness,  and  of  keep- 
ing before  the  mind  the  knowledge  presented,  retained,  and 
reproduced.  We  have  thus  a  Representative  Faculty;  and 
this  obtiiins  the  name  of  Imagination  or  Phantasy.  The  word 
Fancy  is  an  abbreviation  of  the  latter ;  but  with  its  change  of 
form,  its  meaning  has  been  somewhat  modified.  Phantasy, 
which  latterly  has  been  little  used,  was  employed  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  older  English  philosophers,  as,  like  its  Greek 
original,  strictly  synonymous  with  Imagination. 

The  element  of  imagination  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
element  of  reproduction,  though  this  is  frequently,  nay  com- 
monly, done ;  and  this  either  by  comprehending  these  two  qual- 
ities under  imagination,  or  by  conjoining  them  with  the  quality 
of  retention  under  memory.  The  distinction  I  make  is  valid. 
For  the  tw^o  faculties  are  possessed  by  different  individuals  in 
very  different  degrees.  It  is  not,  indeed,  easy  to  see  how,  with- 
out a  representative  act,  an  object  can  be  reproduced.  But  the 
fact  is  certain,  that  the  two  powers  have  no  necessary  propor- 
tion to  each  other.  The  representative  faculty  has,  by  philoso- 
phers, been  distinguished  into  the  Productive  or  Creative,  and 
the  Reproductive,  Imagination.  I  shall  hereafter  show  you  that 
this  distinction  is  untenable. 

V.  The  Elahorative  Faculty.  —  In  the  fifth  place,  all  the  fac- 
ulties we  have  considered  are  only  subsidiary.  They  acquire, 
preserve,  call  out,  and  liold  up  the  materials,  for  the  use  of  a 


272        DISTRIBUTION  OF  THF>  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES. 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACLTLTIES.        273 


higher  facuUy  which  operates  upon  these  materials,  and  which 
we  may  call  the  Elaborative  or  Discursive  Faculty.     This  fac- 
ulty has  only  one  operation,  it  only  compares ;  — it  is  Compari- 
son,—  the  faculty  of  Relations.     It  may  startle  you  to  hear 
that  the  higliest  function  of  mind  is  nothing  higher  than  com- 
parison, but  in  the  end,  I  am  confident  of  convincing  you  of  tlic 
paradox.     Under  Comparison,  I  include  the  conditions,  and  the 
results,  of  Comparison.     In  order  to  compare,  the  mind  must 
divide  or  separate,  and  conjoin  or  compose.     Analysis  and  syn- 
thesis are,  therefore,  the  conditions  of  comparison.     Again,  the 
result  of  comparison  is  either  the  affirmation  of  one  thing  of 
another,  or  the  negation  of  one  thing  of  another.     If  the  mind 
affirm  one  thing  of  another,  it  conjoins  them,  and  is  thus  again 
synthesis.     If  it  deny  one  thing  of  another,  it  disjoins  them, 
and  is  thus  again  analysis.      Generalization,  which  is  the  result 
of  synthesis  and  analysis,  is  thus  an  act  of  comparison,  and  is 
properly  denominated  Conception.     Judgment  is  only  the  com- 
parison of  two  terms  or  notions  directly  together ;  Reasoning, 
only  the  comparison  of  two  terms  or  notions  with  each  other 
through  a  third.     Conception  or  Generalization,  Judgment  and 
Reasoning,  are  thus  only  various  applications  of  Comparison, 
and  not  even  entitled  to  the  distinction  of  separate  faculties. 

Under  the  general  cognitive  faculty,  there  is  thus  discrim- 
inated a  fifth  special  faculty  in  the  Elaborative  Faculty,  or 
Comparison.  This  is  Thought,  strictly  so  called  ;  it  corresponds 
to  the  zJidvoia  of  the  Greek,  to  the  Discursus  of  the  Latin,  to 
the  Verstand  of  the  German  philosophy ;  and  its  laws  are  the 

object  of  Logic. 

VI.  The  Regulative  Faculty.  —■  But,  in  the  sixth  and  last 
place,  the  mind  is  not  altogether  indebted  to  experience  for  the 
whole  apparatus  of  its  knowledge; — its  knowledge  is  not  all 
adventitious,  not  all  a  posteriori.  What  we  know  by  expe- 
rience, without  experience  we  should  not  have  known ;  and  as 
all  our  experience  is  contingent,  all  the  knowledge  derived 
from  experience  is  contingent  also.  But  there  are  cognitions 
in  the  mind  which  are  not  contingent,  —  which  are  necessary,  — ■ 
which  we  cannot  but  think,  —  which  thought  supposes  as  its 


fundamental  condition.     These  a  priori  cognitions  are  the  laws 
or  conditions  of  thought  in  general ;  consequently,  the  laws  and 
conditions  under  which  our  knowledge  a  posteriori  is  possible. 
These  cognitions,  therefore,  are  not  mere  generalizations  from 
experience.     But  if  not  derived  from  experience,  they  must  be 
native  to  the  mind ;  unless,  on  an  alternative  that  we  need  not 
at  present  contemplate,  we   suppose  with   Plato,  St.  Austin, 
Cousin,  and  other  philosophers,  that  Reason,  or  more  properly 
Intellect,  is  impersonal,  and  that  we  are  conscious  of  these  nec- 
essary cognitions   in   the   divine   mind.     These   native,  these 
necessary  cognitions,  are  the  laws  by  which  the  mind  is  gov- 
erned in  its  operations,  and  which  afford  the  conditions  of  its 
capacity  of  knowledge.     These  necessary  laws,  or  primary  con- 
ditions, of  intelligence,  are  phjenomena  of  a  similar  character ; 
aud  we  must,  therefore,  generalize  or  collect  them  into  a  class ; 
and  on  the  power  possessed  by  the  mind  of  manifesting  these 
phenomena,  we  may  bestow  the  name  of  the  Regulative  Fac- 
ulty.    This  faculty  corresponds  in  some  measure  to  what,  in 
the  Aristotelic  philosophy,  was  called  Novg,  —  vov^  {inteUectus, 
mens),  when  strictly  employed,  being  a  term,  in  that  pliilosophy, 
for  the  place  of  principles,  —  the  locus  principiorum.     It  is 
analogous,  likewise,  to  the  term  Reason,  as  occasionally  used  by 
some  of  the  older  English  philosophers,  and  to  the  Veriiunft 
{reason)  in  the  philo.^ophy  of  Kant,  Jacobi,  and  others  of  the 
recent  German  metaphysicians,  and  from  them  adopted  into 
France  and  England.     It  is  also  nearly  convertible  with  what  I 
conceive  to  be  Reid's,  and  certainly  Stewart's,  notion  of  Com- 
mon Sense.     This,  the  last  general  faculty  which  I  would  dis- 
tinguish under  the  Cognitive  Faculty,  is  thus  what  I  would  call 
the  Regulative   or   Legislative,  —  its   synonyms   being   Novg, 
Intellect,  or  Common  Sense. 

You  will  observe  that  the  term  faculty  can  be  applied  to  the 
class  of  phfenomena  here  collected  under  one  name,  only  in  a 
v;'ry  different  signification  from  what  it  bears  when  applied  to 
tile  preceding  powers.  For  vovg,  intelligence  or  common  sense, 
meaning  merely  the  complement  of  the  fundamental  principles 
or  laws  of  thought,  is  not  properly  a  faculty ;  that  is,  it  is  not  an 


274       DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES. 


DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE   COGNITIVE  FACULTIES.        275 


active  power  at  all.     As  it  is,  however,  not  a  capacity,  it  is  not 
easy  to  see  by  what  other  word  it  can  be  denoted. 

Knowledge  a  priori  and  a  posteriori  explained.  —  By  the  way, 
you  will  please  to  recollect  these  two  relative  expressions.     As 
used  in  a  psychological  sense,  a  knowledge  a  posteriori  is  a  syn- 
onym for  knowledge  empirical,  or  from  experience ;  and,  con- 
sequently, is  adventitious  to  the  mind,  as  subsequent  to,  and  in 
consequence  of,   the  exercise  of  its  faculties   of   observation. 
Knowledge  a  priori,  on   the  contrary,  called  likewise  native, 
pure,  or  transcendental  knowledge,  embraces  those  principles 
which,  as  the  conditions  of  the  exercise  of  its  faculties  of  obser- 
vation and  thought,  are,  consequently,  not  the  result  of  that 
exercise.     True  it  is  that,  chronologically  considered,  our  a  pri- 
ori is  not  antecedent  to  our  a  posteriori  knowledge ;  for  the 
internal  conditions  of   experience  can  only  operate  when  an 
object  of  experience  has  been  presented.     In  the  order  of  time, 
our  knowledge,  therefore,  may  be  said  to  commence  with  expe- 
rience,  but  to  have  its  principle  antecedently  in  the  mind.    Much 
as  has  been  written  on  this  matter  by  the  greatest  philosophers, 
this  all-important  doctrine  has  never  been  so  well  stated  as  in 
an  unknown   sentence  of  an  old  and  now  forgotten  thmker: 
"  Cognitio  omnis  a  mente  primam  originem,  a  sensibus  exordium 
habet  primum"  —  [All  knowledge  has  its  primitive  source  in  the 
mind,  its  beginning  in  the  senses.]     These  few  words  are  worth 
many  a  modern  volume  of  philosophy.     You  will  observe  tlie 
felicity  of  the  expression.     The  whole  sentence  has  not  a  su- 
perfluous word,  and  yet  is  absolute  and  complete.     Mens,  the 
Latin  term  for  vov^,  is  the  best  possible  word  to  express  the 
intellectual  source  of  our  a  priori  principles,  and  is  well  opposed 
to  sensus.     But  the  ha[)piest  contrast  is  in  the  terms  origo  and 
exordium  ;  the  former  denoting  priority  in  the  order  of  exist- 
ence, the  latter  priority  in  the  order  of  time. 

The  following  is  a  tabular  view  of  the  distribution  of  the 
Special  Facuhies  of  Knowledge : 


o 


o 
a 

o 
>■ 

c 

o 
U 


I.  Presentative 
II.  Conservative 

III.  Reproductive 

IV.  Representative 
V.  Elaborative 

.VI.  Regulative 


\  External  =  Perception. 

(  Internal  =:  Self-consciousness. 

=  Memory. 

(  Without  will  =  Supj^estion, 
(  With  will       :=  Reminiscence. 

=  Imagination. 

=  Comparison,  —  Faculty  of  Relations. 

=  Reason,  —  Common  Sense. 


Besides  these  faculties,  there  are,  I  conceive,  no  others ;  and, 
in  tlie  sequel,  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you,  that  while  these  are 
attributes  of  mind  not  to  be  confounded,  —  not  to  be  analyzed 
into  each  other,  —  the  other  faculties  which  have  been  devised 
by  philosophers  are  either  factitious  and  imaginary,  or  easily 
reducible  to  these. 


THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


277 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. —REID'S  HISTORICAL  VIEW  OF 
THE  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 

Use  of  the  term  Cognition  vindicated.  —  I  may  here  notice, 
parenthetically,  the  reason  why  I  frequently  employ  cognition 
as  a  synonym  of  knowledge.  This  is  not  done  merely  for  the 
sake  of  varying  the  expression.  In  the  iirst  place,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  have  a  word  of  this  signification,  which  we  can  use  iu 
the  plural.  Now  the  term  hiowledges  has  waxed  obsolete,  though 
I  think  it  ought  to  be  revived.  It  is  frequently  employed  by 
Bacon.  We  must,  therefore,  have  recourse  to  the  term  cogni- 
tion, of  which  the  plural  is  in  common  usage.  But  in  the 
second  place,  we  must  likewise  have  a  term  for  knowledge 
which  we  can  employ  adjectively.  The  word  knowledge  itself 
has  no  adjective,  for  the  participle  knoioing  is  too  vague  and 
unemphatic  to  be  employed,  at  least,  alone.  But  the  substantive 
cognition  has  the  adjective  cognitive.  Thus,  in  consequence  of 
having  a  plural  and  an  adjective,  cognition  is  a  word  we  cannot 
possibly  dispense  w^th  in  psychological  discussion.  It  would 
also  be  convenient,  in  the  third  place,  for  psychological  precision 
and  emphasis,  to  use  the  word  to  cognize  in  connection  with  its 
noun  cognition,  as  we  use  the  decompound  to  recognize  in  con- 
nection with  its  noun  recognition.  But  in  this  instance,  the 
necessity  is  not  strong  enough  to  warrant  our  doing  what  cus- 
tom has  not  done.  You  will  notice,  such  an  innovation  is  always 
a  question  of  circumstances  ;  and  though  I  would  not  subject 
Philosophy  to  Rhetoric  more  than  Gregory  the  Great  would 
Theology  to  Grammar,  still,  without  an  adequate  necessity,  I 
should  always  recommend  you,  in  your  English  compositions,  to 
(276) 


prefer  a  word  of  Saxon  to  a  word  of  Greek  or  Latin  derivation. 
It  would  be  absurd  to  sacrifice  meaning  to  its  mode  of  utterance, 
—  to  make  thought  subordinate  to  its  expression ;  but  still  where 
no  higher  authority,  no  imperious  necessity,  dispenses  with  phil- 
ological precepts,  these,  as  themselves  the  dictates  of  reason  and 
philosophy,  ought  to  be  punctiliously  obeyed.  "It  is  not  in 
language,"  says  Leibnitz,  "  that  we  ought  to  play  the  puritan ; " 
but  it  is  not  either  for  the  philosopher  or  the  theologian  to  throw 
off  all  deference  to  the  laws  of  language,  —  to  proclaim  of  their 
doctrines, 


"  Mysteria  tanta 
Turpe  est  grammaticis  submittcre  colla  capistris, 


)> 


The  general  right  must  certainly  be  asserted  to  i\iQ  philosopher 
of  usurping  a  peculiar  language,  if  requisite  to  express  his  pe- 
culiar analyses ;  but  he  ought  to  remember  that  the  exercise  of 
tliis  right,  as  odious  and  suspected,  is  sir ictissimi  juris,  and  that, 
to  avoid  the  pains  and  penalties  of  grammatical  recusancy,  he 
must  always  be  able  to  plead  a  manifest  reason  of  philosophical 
necessity.     But  to  return  from  this  digression. 

Mental  phenomena  distinguished  only  by  abstraction.  —  The 
phaenomena  of  mind  are  never  presented  to  us  undecomposed 
and  simple ;  that  is,  we  are  never  conscious  of  any  modification 
of  mind  which  is  not  made  up  of  many  elementary  modes  ;  but 
these  simple  modes  we  are  able  to  distinguish,  by  abstraction,  as 
separate  forms  or  qualities  of  our  internal  life,  since,  in  differ- 
ent states  of  mind,  they  are  given  in  different  proportions  and 
combinations.  We  are  thus  able  to  distinguish  as  simple,  by  an 
ideal  abstraction  and  analysis,  what  is  never  actually  given  ex- 
cept m  composition;  precisely  as  we  distinguish  color  from 
extension,  though  color  is  never  presented  to  us  apart,  nay,  can- 
not even  be  conceived  as  actually  separable,  from  extension. 
The  aim  of  the  psychologist  is  thus  to  analyze,  by  abstraction, 
the  mental  phenomena  into  those  ultimate  or  primary  quaUties, 
which,  m  their  combination,  constitute  the  concrete  complexities 
of  actual  thought.  If  the  simple  constituent  pha^nomenon  be  a 
mental  activity,  we  give  to  the  active  power  thus  possessed  by 

24 


278 


THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


279 


the  mind  of  eliciting  such  elementary  energy  the  name  of  fac- 
ulty ;  whereas,  if  the  simple  or  constituent  phgenomenon  be  a 
mental  passivity,  we  give  to  the  passive  power  thus  possessed  by 
the  mind  of  receiving  such  an  elementary  affection,  the  name 
of  capacity.  Thus  it  is  that  there  are  just  as  many  simple  fac- 
ulties as  there  are  ultimate  activities  of  mind ;  as  many  simple 
capacities  as  there  are  ultimate  passivities  of  mind ;  and  it  is 
consequently  manifest  that  a  system  of  the  mental  powers  can 
never  be  iinal  and  complete,  until  we  have  accomplished  a  full 
and  accurate  analysis  of  the  various  fundamental  phaenomena 
of  our  internal  life.  And  what  does  such  an  analysis  suppose  ? 
Manifestly  three  conditions :  —  1°,  That  no  phnsnomenon  be  as- 
sumed as  elementary  which  can  be  resolved  into  simpler  princi- 
ples ;  2°,  That  no  elementary  pha?nomenon  be  overlooked ;  and 
3°,  That  no  imaginary  element  be  interpolated. 

These  are  the  rules  whicli  ought  evidently  to  govern  our  psy- 
chological analyses.  I  could  show,  however,  that  these  have 
been  more  or  less  violated  in  every  attempt  that  has  been  made 
at  a  determination  of  the  constituent  elements  of  thouo^ht;  for 
philosophers  have  either  stopped  short  of  the  primary  phanioni- 
enon,  or  they  have  neglected  it,  or  they  have  substituted  another 
in  its  room.  I  declined,  however,  at  present,  an  articulate  criti- 
cism of  the  various  systems  of  the  human  powers  proposed  by 
philosophers,  and  passed  on  to  the  summary  distribution  of  the 
cognitive  faculties  given  in  the  last  chapter.  It  is  evident  that 
such  a  distribution,  as  the  result  of  an  analysis,  cannot  be  appreci- 
ated until  the  analysis  itself  be  understood  ;  and  this  can  only 
be  understood  after  the  discussion  of  the  several  fticulties  and 
elementary  phtenomena  has  been  carried  through.  You  are, 
therefore,  at  present  to  look  upon  this  scheme  as  little  more 
than  a  table  of  contents  to  the  various  chapters,  under  which 
the  phaenomena  of  knowledge  will  be  considered.  I  now  only 
make  a  statement  of  what  I  shall  subsequently  attempt  to  prove. 
The  principle  of  the  distribution  is,  however,  of  such  a  nature 
that  I  flatter  myself  it  can,  in  some  measure,  be  comprehended 
even  on  its  first  enunciation :  for  the  various  elementary  phae- 
nomena, and  the  relative  faculties  which  it  assumes,  are  of  so 


notorious  and  necessary  a  character,  that  they  cannot  possibly 
be  refused ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  they  are  discriminated  from 
each  other  both  by  obvious  contrast,  and  by  the  fact  that  they 
are  manifested  in  different  individuals  each  in  very  various 
proportions  to  each  other. 

The  general  faculty  of  knowledge  is  thus,  according  to  this 
distribution,  divided  into  six  special  faculties :  first,  the  Acquis- 
itive, Presentative,  or  Receptive ;  second,  the  Conservative ; 
third,  the  Reproductive ;  fourth,  the  Representative ;  fifth,  the 
Elaborative ;  and  sixth,  the  Regulative.  The  first  of  these,  the 
Acquisitive,  is  again  subdivided  into  two  faculties,  —  Perception 
and  Self- Consciousness  ;  the  third  into  Suggestion  and  Reminis- 
cence ;  and  the  fifth  may  likewise  admit  of  subdivisions,  into 
Conception,  Judgment,  and  Reasoning,  which,  however,  as 
merely  applications  of  the  same  act  in  different  degrees,  hardly 
warrant  a  distinction  into  separate  faculties.  I  now  proceed  to 
consider  these  faculties  in  detail. 

The  Presentative  Faculty  —  Perception.  —  Perception,  or  the 
consciousness  of  external  objects,  is  the  first  power  in  order. 
And,  in  treating  of  this  faculty,  —  the  faculty  on  which  turn* 
the  whole  question  of  Idealism  and  Realism,  —  it  is  perhaps 
proper,  in  the  first  place,  to  take  an  historical  survey  of  the  hy- 
potheses of  philosophers  in  regard  to  Perception.  In  doing 
this,  I  shall  particularly  consider  the  views  which  Reid  has 
given  of  these  hypotheses :  his  authority  on  this  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  his  philosophy  is  entitled  to  high  respect ;  and 
it  is  requisite  to  point  out  to  you,  both  in  what  respects  he  has 
misrepresented  others,  and  in  what  been  misrepresented  him- 
self. 

Before  commencing  this  survey,  it  is  proper  to  state,  in  a  few 
words,  the  one,  the  principal,  point  in  regard  to  which  opinions 
vary.  The  grand  distinction  of  philosophers  is  determined  by 
the  alternative  they  adopt  on  the  question,  —  Is  our  perception, 
or  our  consciousness  of  external  objects^  mediate  or  immediate  ? 

As  we  have  seen,  those  who  maintain  our  knowledge  of  ex- 
ternal objects  to  be  immediate,  accept  implicitly  the  datum  of 
consciousness,  which  gives  as  an  ultimate  fact,  in  this  act,  an  ego 


280 


THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


281 


immediately  known,  and  a  non-ego  immediately  known.  Tliose 
again  who  deny  that  an  external  object  can  be  immediately 
known,  do  not  accept  one-half  of  the  fact  of  consciousness,  but 
substitute  some  hypothesis  in  its  place,  —  not,  however,  always 
the  same.  Consciousness  declares  that  we  have  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  a  non-ego,  and  of  an  external  non-ego. 

Ttvo  hypotheses  of  Mediate  Perception.  —  Now,  of  the  phi- 
losophers who  reject  this  fact,  some  admit  our  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  a  non-ego,  but  not  of  an  external  non-ego.     They  do 
not  limit  the  consciousness  or  immediate  knowledge  of  the  mind 
to  its  own  modes,  but  conceiving  it  impossible  for  the  external 
reality  to  be  brought  within  the  sphere   of  consciousness,  they 
hold   that  it  is  represented  by  a  vicarious  image,  numerically 
different  from  mind,  but  situated  somewhere,  either  in  the  brain 
or  mind,  within  the  sphere  of  consciousness.     Others,  a^^ain, 
deny  to  the   mind  not  only  any  consciousness  of  an  external 
non-ego,  but  of  a  non-ego  at  all,  and  hold  that  what  the  mind 
immediately  perceives,  and  mistakes  for  an  external  object,  is 
only  the  ego  itself  pecuharly  modified.     These  two  are  the  only 
generic   varieties   possible    of    the    representative    hypothesis. 
And  they  have  each  their  respective  advantages  and  disad- 
vantages.    They  both  etjually  afford  a  basis  for  Idealism.     On 
the  former,  Berkeley  established  his  Theological,  on  the  latter, 
Fichte  his  Anthropological,  Idealism.     Both  violate  the  testi- 
mony of  consciousness,  the  one  the   more   complex   and  the 
clumsier,  in  denying  that  we  are  conscious  of  an  external  non- 
ego,   tliough    admitting   that  we    are    conscious  of  a  non-ej;o 
within  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  either  in  the  mind  or  brain. 
The  other,  the  simpler  and  more  philosophical,  outrages,  how- 
ever,  still  more  flagrantly,  the  veracity  of  consciousness,  in 
denying  not  only  that  we  are  conscious  of  an  external  non-ego, 
but  that  we  are  conscious  of  a  non-ego  at  all.* 

*  [Xotliing  is  easier  than  to  show  that,  so  far  from  refuting  Idealism,  this 

doctrine  atJbrds  it  the  best  of  all  possible  foundations An  Ej^oisti- 

cal  Idealism  is  established  on  tlie  doctrine  that  all  our  knowledge  is  merely 
subjective,  or  of  the  mind  itself;  that  the  Ego  has  no  immediate  cognizance 
of  a  Non-Ego  as  existing,  but  that  the  Non-Ego  is  only  represented  to  us 


Each  of  these  hypotheses  of  a  representative  perception 
admits  of  various  subordinate  hypotheses.  Thus  the  former, 
which  holds  that  the  representative  or  immediate  object  is  a 
tertium  quid,  different  toth  from  the  mind  and  from  the  exter- 
nal reahty,  is  subdivided,  according  as  the  immediate  object  is 
vicAved  as  material,  as  immaterial,  or  as  neither,  or  as  both,  as 
something  physical  or  as  something  hyperphysical,  as  propa- 
gated from  the  external  object,  as  generated  in  the  medium,  or 
as  fabricated  in  the  soul  itself;  and  this  latter,  either  in  the 
intelligent  mind  or  in  the  animal  life,  as  infused  by  God  or  by 
angels,  or  as  identical  with  the  divine  substance,  and  so  forth. 
In  the  latter,  the  representative  modification  has  been  regarded 
either  as  factitious,  that  is,  a  mere  product  of  mmd;  or  as 
innate,  that  is,  as  independent  of  any  mental  energy. 

Reid^s  error.  —  Reid,  who,  as  I  shall  hereafter  endeavor  to 
show  you,  probably  holds  the  doctrine  of  an  Intuitive  or  Imme- 
diate Perception,  never  generalized,  never  articulately  under- 
stood, the  distinction  of  the  two  forms  of  the  Representative 
Hypothesis.  This  was  the  cause  of  the  most  important  errors 
on  his  part.  In  the  Jirst  place,  it  prevented  him  from  drawing 
the  obtrusive  and  vital  distinction  between  Perception,  to  him  a 

in  a  modifieation  of  the  self-conscious  Ego.  This  doctrine  being  admitted, 
the  Idealist  has  only  to  show,  that  the  supposition  of  a  Non-Ego,  or  an 
external  world  really  existent,  is  a  groundless  and  unnecessary  assump- 
tion ;  for,  while  the  Law  of  Parcimony  prohibits  the  multiplication  of  sub- 
stances or  causes  beyond  what  the  phaenomena  require,  we  have  manifestly 
no  right  to  postulate  for  the  Non-Ego  the  dignity  of  an  independent  sub- 
stance beyond  the  Ego,  seeing  that  this  Non-Ego  is,  ex  hypothesi,  known  to 

us,  consequently  exists  for  us,  only  as  a  phaenomenon  of  the  Ego 

All  our  knowledge  of  the  Non-Ego  is  thus  merely  ideal  and  mediate ;  we 
have  no  knowledge  of  any  really  objective  reality,  except  through  a  sub- 
jective representation  or  notion ;  in  other  words,  we  are  only  immediately 
cognizant  of  certain  modes  of  our  own  minds,  and,  in  and  through  them, 

nicdiately  warned  of  the  pha;nomena  of  the  material  universe The 

common  sense  of  mankind  only  assures  us  of  the  existence  of  an  external 
and  extended  world,  in  assuring  us  that  we  are  conscious,  not  merely  of  the 
phi^nomena  of  mind  in  relation  to  matter,  but  of  the  phienomena  of  mat- 
ter m  relation  to  mind  ;  —  in  other  words,  that  we  arc  immediately  percipi- 
ent of  extended  things.]  — Notes  to  Reid. 

24* 


282 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


faculty  immediately  cognitive,  or  presentative  of  external  ob- 
jects, and  the  faculties  of  Imagination  and  Memory,  in  which 
external  objects  can  only  be  known  to  the  mind  mediately,  or  in 
a  representation.  In  the  second  place,  this,  as  we  shall  see, 
causes  him  the  greatest  perplexity,  and  sometimes  leads  him 
into  errors  in  his  history  of  the  opinions  of  previous  philoso- 
phers, in  regard  to  which  he  has,  independently  of  this,  been 
guilty  of  various  mistakes. 

Brown's  error.  —  As  to  Brown,  he  holds  the  simple  doctrine 
of  a  representative  perception,  —  a  doctrine  which  Reid  does 
not  seem  to  have  understood;  and  this  opinion  he  not  only 
holds  himself,  but  attributes,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  to  all 
modern  philosophers,  nay,  even  to  Reid  himself,  whose  philoso- 
phy he  thus  maintains  to  be  one  great  blunder,  both  in  regard 
to  the  new  truths  it  professes  to  establish,  and  to  the  old  errors 
it  professes  to  refute.  It  turns  out,  however,  that  Brown  in 
relation  to  Reid  is  curiously  wrong  from  first  to  last,  —  not  one 
of  Reid's  numerous  mistakes,  historical  and  philosophical,  does 
he  touch,  far  less  redargue ;  wdiereas,  in  every  pohit  on  wdiieh 
he  assails  Reid,  he  himself  is  historically  or  philosophically  in 
error. 

Reid's  historical  review.  —  The  Platonic  theory.  —  This  being 
premised,  I  now  proceed  to  follow  Reid  through  his  historical 
view  and  scientific  criticism  of  the  various  theories  of  Percep- 
tion ;  and  I  accordingly  commence  with  the  Platonic.  In  this, 
however,  he  is  unfortunate,  for  the  simile  of  the  cave,  which  is 
applied  by  Plato  in  the  seventh  book  of  the  Republic,  was  not 
intended  by  him  as  an  illustration  of  the  mode  of  our  sensible 
perception  at  all.  '*  Plato,"  says  Reid,  ''  illustrates  our  manner 
of  perceiving  the  objects  of  sense  in  this  manner.  He  sup- 
poses a  dark  subterraneous  cave,  in  which  men  lie  bound  in  such 
a  manner  that  tliey  can  direct  their  eyes  only  to  one  part  of  the 
cave :  far  behind,  there  is  a  light,  some  mys  of  which  come 
over  a  wall  to  that  part  of  the  cave  which  is  before  the 
eyes  of  our  prisoners.  A  number  of  persons,  variously  em- 
ployed, pass  between  them  and  the  liglit,  whose  shadows  are 
seen  by  the  prisoners,  but  not  the  persons  themselves.     In  this 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


283 


manner,  that  philosopher  conceived  that,  by  our  senses,  we  per- 
ceive the  shadows  of  things  only,  and  not  things  themselves. 
He  seems  to  have  borrowed  his  notions  on  this  subject  from  the 
Pythagoreans,  and  they  very  probably  from  Pythagoras  him- 
self. If  we  make  allowance  for  Plato's  allegorical  genius,  his 
sentiments  on  this  subject  correspond  very  weU  with  those  of 
his  scholar  Aristotle,  and  of  the  Peripatetics.  The  shadows  of 
Plato  may  very  well  represent  the  species  and  phantasms 
of  the  Peripatetic  school,  and  the  ideas  and  impressions  of 
modern  philosophers." 

Reid's  account  of  the  Platonic  theory  of  perception  is  utterly 
wrong.  Plato's  simile  of  the  cave  he  completely  misappre- 
hends. By  his  cave,  images,  and  shadows,  this  philosopher 
intended  only  to  illustrate  the  great  principle  of  his  philoso- 
phy, that  the  sensible  or  ectypal  world,  —  the  world  phjenome- 
nal,  transitory,  ever  becoming  but  never  being  (as?  ytyv6(ievov, 
^r^dtTiore  oy),  stands  to  the  noetic  or  archetypal  world,  —  the 
world  substantial,  permanent  (ottcog  6V),  in  the  same  relation  of 
comparative  unreality,  in  which  the  shadows  or  the  images  of 
sensible  existences  themselves  stand  to  the  objects  of  which 
they  are  the  dim  and  distant  adumbrations. 

But  not  only  is  Reid  wrong  in  regard  to  the  meaning  of  the 
cave,  he  is  curiously  wrong  in  regard  to  Plato's  doctrine,  —  at 
least,  of  vision.  For  so  far  was  Plato  from  holding  that  we 
only  perceive  in  consequence  of  the  representations  of  objects 
being  thrown  upon  the  percipient  mind,  —  he,  on  the  contrary, 
maintained,  in  the  Timceus,  that,  in  vision,  a  percipient  power 
of  the  sensible  soul  sallies  out  towards  the  object,  the  images  of 
which  it  carries  back  into  the  eye ;  —  an  opinion,  by  the  way, 
held  hkewise  by  Empedocles,  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  [and 
many  others]. 

The  Aristotelic  doctrine.  —  The  account  which  Reid  gives  of 
the  Aristotelic  doctrine  is,  likewise,  very  erroneous.  "  Aristotle 
seems  to  have  thought  that  the  soul  consists  of  two  parts,  or 
rather,  that  we  have  two  souls,  —  the  animal  and  the  rational ; 
or,  as  he  calls  them,  the  soul  and  the  intellect.  To  the  first,  be- 
long the  senses,  memory  and  imagination  ;  to  the  last,  judgment, 


284 


VARIOUS   THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


VARIOUS   THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


285 


opinion,  belief,  and  reasoning.  The  first  we  have  in  common 
with  brute  animals ;  the  last  is  peculiar  to  man.  The  animal 
soul  he  held  to  be  a  certain  form  of  the  body,  which  is  insepar- 
able from  it,  and  perishes  at  death.  To  this  soul  the  senses 
belong ;  and  he  defines  a  sense  to  be  that  Avhich  is  capable  of 
receiving  the  sensible  forms  or  species  of  objects,  without  any 
of  the  matter  of  them ;  as  wax  receives  the  form  of  the  seal 
without  any  of  the  matter  of  it.  The  forms  of  sound,  of  color, 
of  taste,  and  of  other  sensible  quahties,  are,  in  a  manner,  re- 
ceived by  the  senses.  It  seems  to  be  a  necessary  consequence 
of  Aristotle's  doctrine,  that  bodies  are  constantly  sending  forth, 
in  all  directions,  as  many  different  kinds  of  forms  without  mat- 
ter as  they  have  different  sensible  qualities ;  for  the  forms  of 
color  must  enter  by  the  eye,  the  forms  of  sound  by  the  ear,  — 
and  so  of  the  other  senses.  This,  accordingly,  was  main- 
tained by  the  followers  of  Aristotle,  though  not,  as  far  as  I 
know,  expressly  mentioned  by  himself.  They  disputed  concern- 
ing the  nature  of  those  forms  of  species,  whether  they  were 
real  beings  or  nonentities ;  and  some  held  them  to  be  of  an  in- 
termediate nature  between  the  two.  The  whole  doctrine  of  the 
Peripatetics  and  schoolmen  concerning  forms,  substantial  and 
accidental,  and  concerning  the  transmission  of  sensible  species 
from  objects  of  sense  to  the  mind,  if  it  be  at  all  intelligible,  is 
so  far  above  my  comprehension  that  I  should  perhaps  do  it 
injustice  by  entering  into  it  more  minutely." 

In  regard  to  the  statement  of  the  Peripatetic  doctrine  of 
species,  I  must  observe,  that  it  is  correct  only  as  applied  to  the 
doctrine  taught  as  the  Aristotelic  in  the  Schools  of  the  middle 
ages ;  and  even  in  these  Schools,  there  was  a  large  party  who 
not  only  themselves  disavowed  the  whole  doctrine  of  species,  but 
maintained  that  it  received  no  countenance  from  the  authority 
of  Aristotle.  This  opinion  is  correct ;  and  I  could  easily  prove 
to  you,  had  we  time,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  metaphorical 
expressions  of  sldog  and  Tvnog^  which,  on  one  or  two  occasions, 
he  cursorily  uses,  to  warrant  the  attribution  to  him  of  the  doc- 
trine of  his  disciples.  This  is  even  expressly  maintained  by 
several   of    his   Greek   commentators,  —  as   the   Aphrodisian, 


Michael  Ephesius,  and  Philoponus.  In  fact,  Aristotle  appears 
to  have  held  the  same  doctrine  in  regard  to  perception  as  Reid 
himself.     He  was  a  Natural  Realist. 

Reid  gives  no  account  of  the  famous  doctrine  of  Perception 
held  by  Epicurus,  and  which  that  philosopher  had  borrowed 
from  Democritus,  —  namely,  that  the  eidoi}).a,  dnooooiai,  imag- 
ines, simulacra  rerum,  etc.,  are  like  pellicles  continually  flying 
off  from  objects ;  and  that  these  material  likenesses,  diffusing 
themselves  everywhere  in  the  air,  are  propagated  to  the  per- 
ceptive organs.     In  the  words  of  Lucretius,  — 

"  Quae,  quasi  membranai,  summo  de  cortice  rerum 
Dercptaj,  voUtant  ultr6  citroque  per  auras." 

The  Cartesian  doctrine.  —  Reid's  statement  of  the  Cartesian 
doctrine  of  perception  is  not  exempt  from  serious  error.  After 
giving  a  long,  and  not  very  accurate,  account  of  the  philosophy 
of  Descartes  in  general,  he  proceeds :  — 

"  There  are  two  points,  in  particular,  wherein  I  cannot  recon- 
cile him  to  himself:  the  first,  regarding  the  place  of  the  ideas 
or  images  of  extenial  objects,  which  are  the  immediate  objects 
of  perception ;  the  second,  with  regard  to  the  veracity  of  our 
external  senses. 

"  As  to  the  first,  he  sometimes  places  the  ideas  of  material 
objects  in  the  brain,  not  only  when  they  are  perceived,  but  when 
they  are  remeinbered  or  imagined ;  and  this  has  always  been 
held  to  be  the  Cartesian  doctrine ;  yet  he  sometimes  says,  that 
we  are  not  to  conceive  the  images  or  traces  in  the  brain  to  be 
perceived,  as  if  there  were  eyes  in  the  brain ;  these  traces  are 
only  occasions  on  which,  by  the  laws  of  the  union  of  soul  and 
body,  ideas  are  excited  in  the  mind ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  not 
necessary  that  there  should  be  an  exact  resemblance  between 
the  traces  and  the  things  represented  by  them,  any  more  than 
that  Avords  or  signs  should  be  exactly  like  the  tilings  signified 
by  them. 

"  These  two  opinions,  I  think,  cannot  be  reconciled.  For,  if 
the  images  or  traces  in  the  brain  are  perceived,  they  must  be 
the  objects  of  perception,  and  not  the  occasions  of  it  only.     On 


286 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


287 


the  other  hand,  if  they  are  only  the  occasions  of  our  perceiving, 
they  are  not  perceived  at  all.  Descartes  seems  to  have  hesi- 
tated between  the  two  opinions,  or  to  have  passed  from  the  one 
to  the  other." 

Reid's  principal  error  consists  in  charging  Descartes  with 
vacillation  and  inconsistency,  and  in  possibly  attributing  to  him 
the  opinion  that  the  representative  object,  of  which  the  mind  is 
conscious  in  perception,  is  something  material,  —  something  in 
the  brain.  This  arose  from  his  ignorance  of  the  fundamental 
principle  of  the  Cartesian  doctrine.  By  those  not  possessed  of 
tlie  key  to  the  Cartesian  theory,  there  are  many  passages  in  the 
writings  of  its  author  which,  taken  by  themselves,  might  natu- 
rally be  construed  to  import,  that  Descartes  supposed  the  mind 
to  be  conscious  of  certain  motions  in  the  brain,  to  which,  as  well 
as  to  the  modifications  of  the  intellect  itself,  he  applies  the  terms 
imaye  and  idea.  Reid,  who  did  not  understand  the  Cartesian 
philosophy  as  a  system,  was  puzzled  by  these  superficial  ambi- 
guities. Not  aware  that  the  cardinal  point  of  that  system  is, 
that  mind  and  body,  as  essentially  opposed,  are  naturally  to  each 
other  as  zero ;  and  that  their  mutual  intercourse  can,  therefore, 
only  be  supernaturally  maintained  by  the  concourse  of  the 
Deity,  Reid  was  led  into  the  error  of  attributing,  by  possibility, 
to  Descartes,  the  opinion  that  the  soul  was  immediately  cogni- 
zant of  material  images  in  the  brain.  But  in  the  Cartesian 
theory,  mind  is  only  conscious  of  itself;  the  affections  of  body 
may,  by  the  law  of  union,  be  proximately  the  occasions,  but  can 
never  constitute  the  immediate  objects,  of  knowledge.  Reid, 
however,  supposing  that  nothing  could  obtain  the  name  of  image^ 
which  did  not  represent  a  prototype,  or  the  name  of  idea,  which 
was  not  an  object  of  thought,  wholly  misinterpreted  Descartes, 
who  applies,  abusively  indeed,  these  terms  to  the  occasion  of 
perception,  that  is,  the  motion  in  the  sensorium,  unknown  in 
itself  and  representing  nothing ;  as  well  as  to  the  object  of 
thought,  that  is,  the  representation  of  which  we  are  conscious 
in  the  mind  itself.  In  the  Leibnitzo-Wolfian  system,  two  ele- 
ments, both  also  denominated  ideas,  are  in  like  manner  accu- 
rately to  be  contradistinguished  in  the  process  of  perception. 


The  idea  in  the  brain,  and  the  idea  in  the  mind,  are,  to  Des- 
cartes, precisely  what  the  "  material  idea "  and  the  "  sensual 
idea  "  are  to  the  Wolfians.  In  both  philosophies,  the  two  ideas 
are  harmonic  modifications,  correlative  and  coexistent ;  but  in 
neither  is  the  organic  aifection  or  sensorial  idea  an  object  of 
consciousness.  It  is  merely  the  unknown  and  arbitrary  condi- 
tion of  the  mental  representation ;  and  in  the  hypothesis,  both 
of  Assistance  and  of  Preestablished  Harmony,  the  presence  of 
the  one  idea  implies  the  concomitance  of  the  other,  only  by  vir- 
tue of  the  hyperphysical  determination. 

Reid  confused  in  his  account  of  Arnauld.  —  In  treating  of 
Arnauld's  opinion,  we  see  the  confusion  arising  from  Reid's  not 
distinctly  apprehending  the  two  forms  of  the  representative  hy- 
pothesis. Arnauld  held,  and  was  the  first  of  the  philosophers 
noticed  by  Reid  or  Brown  w^ho  clearly  held,  the  simpler  of  these 
forms.  Now,  in  his  statement  of  Arnauld's  doctrine,  Reid  was 
perplexed,  —  was  puzzled.  As  opposing  the  philosophers  who 
maintained  the  more  complex  doctrine  of  representation,  Ar- 
nauld seemed  to  Reid  to  coincide  in  opinion  with  himself;  but 
yet,  though  he  never  rightly  understood  the  simpler  doctrine  of 
representation,  he  still  feels  that  Arnauld  did  not  hold  with  him 
an  intuitive  perception.  Dr.  Brown  is,  therefore,  wrong  in  as- 
serting that  Reid  admits  Arnauld's  opinion  on  perception  and 
his  own  to  be  identical. 

It  cannot  be  maintained,  that  Reid  admits  a  philosopher  to 
hold  an  opinion  convertible  with  his  own,  whom  he  states  to 
"profess  the  doctrine,  universally  received,  that  we  perceive 
not  material  things  immediately,  —  that  it  is  their  ideas  that  are 
the  immediate  objects  of  our  thoughts,  —  and  that  it  is  in  the 
idea  of  ever}^  thing  that  we  perceive  its  properties."  This  fun- 
damental contrast  being  established,  we  may  safely  allow  that 
the  original  misconception,  which  caused  Reid  to  overlook  the 
difference  of  our  intuitive  and  representative  faculties,  caused 
him,  likewise,  to  believe  that  Arnauld  had  attempted  to  unite 
two  contradictory  theories  of  perception.  Not  aware  that  it  was 
possible  to  maintain  a  doctrine  of  perception  in  which  the  idea 
was  not  really  distinguished  from  its  cognition,  and  yet  to  hold 


288 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


289 


that  tLe  mind  had  no  immediate  knowledge  of  external  things : 
Reid  supposes,  in  the  first  place,  that  Arnauld,  in  rejecting  the 
hypothesis  of  ideas,  as  representative  existences  really  distinct 
from  the  contemplative  act  of  perception,  coincided  with  him  in 
viewing  the  material  reality  as  the  immediate  object  of  that 
act;  and,  in  the  second,  that  Arnauld  again  deserted  this 
opinion,  when,  with  the  philosophers,  he  maintained  tliat  the 
idea,  or  act  of  the  mind  representing  the  external  reality,  and 
not  the  external  reality  itself,  w^as  the  immediate  object  of  per- 
ception. Arnauld's  theory  is  one  and  indivisible ;  and,  as  such, 
no  part  of  it  is  identical  with  Keid's.  Reid's  confusion,  here  as 
elsewhere,  is  explained  by  the  circumstance,  that  he  had  never 
speculatively  conceived  the  possibility  of  the  simplest  modifica- 
tion of  the  representative  hypothesis.  He  saw  no  medium 
between  rejecting  ideas  as  something  different  from  thought, 
and  his  own  doctrine  of  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  mate- 
rial object.  Neither  does  Arnauld,  as  Reid  supposes,  ever  assert 
against  Malebranche,  "  that  we  perceive  external  things  imme- 
diately," that  is,  in  themselves :  maintaining  that  all  our  per- 
ceptions are  modifications  essentially  representative,  he  every- 
where avows,  that  he  denies  ideas  only  as  existences  distinct 
from  the  act  itself  of  perception. 

Reid  was,  therefore,  wrong,  and  did  Arnauld  less  than  jus- 
tice, in  viewing  his  theory  "  as  a  weak  attempt  to  reconcile  two 
inconsistent  doctrines :  "  he  was  wrong,  and  did  Arnauld  more 
than  justice,  in  supposing  that  one  of  these  doctrines  was  not 
incompatible  with  his  own.  The  detection,  however,  of  this 
€rror  only  tends  to  manifest  more  clearly,  how  just,  even  when 
under  its  influence,  was  Reid's  appreciation  of  the  contrast  suh- 
Bisling  between  his  own  and  Ai-nauld's  opinion,  considered  as  a 
whole  ;  and  exposes  more  glaringly  Brown's  general  misconcep- 
tion of  Reid's  philosophy,  and  his  present  gross  misrepresenta- 
tion, m  affirming  that  the  doctrines  of  the  two  philosophers  were 
identical,  and  by  Reid  adiliitted  to  be  the  same. 

Reid  on  Locke.  —  Locke  is  the  philosopher  next  in  order,  and 
it  is  principally  against  Reid's  statement  of  the  Lockian  doc- 
trine of  ideas,  that  the  most  vociferous  clamor  has  been  raised, 


by  those  who  deny  that  the  cruder  form  of  the  representative 
hypothesis  was  the  one  prevalent  among  philosophers,  after  the 
decUne  of  the  Scholastic  theory  of  species ;  and  who  do  not  see 
that,  though  Reid's  refutation,  from  the  cause  I  have  already 
noticed,  was  ostensibly  directed  only  against  that  cruder  form, 
it  was  virtually  and  in  effect  levelled  against  the  doctrine  of  a 
representative  perception  altogether.  Even  supposing  that 
Reid  was  wrong  in  attributing  this  particular  modification  of 
the  representative  hypothesis  to  Locke,  and  the  philosophers  in 
general,  —  this  would  be  a  trivial  error,  provided  it  can  be 
shown  that  he  was  opposed  to  every  doctrine  of  perception, 
except  that  founded  on  the  fact  of  the  duality  of  consciousness. 
But  let  us  consider  whether  Reid  be  really  in  error  when  he 
attributes  to  Locke  the  opinion  in  question.  Both  Priestley 
and  Brown  strenuously  contend  against  Reid's  interpretation  of 
the  doctrine  of  Locke,  who  states  it  as  that  philosopher's  opin- 
ion, "that  images  of  external  objects  were  conveyed  to  the 
brain;  but  whether  he  thought  with  [Dr.  Clarke]  and  New- 
ton, that  the  images  in  the  brain  are  perceived  by  the  mind, 
there  present,  or  that  they  are  imprinted  on  the  mind  itself,  is 
not  so  evident." 

This,  Brown,  Priestley,  and  others  pronounce  a  flagrant  mis- 
representation. Not  only  does  Brown  maintain  that  Locke 
never  conceived  the  idea  to  be  substantially  different  from  the 
mind,  as  a  material  image  of  the  brain ;  but  that  he  never  sup- 
posed it  to  have  an  existence  apart  from  the  mental  energy  of 
which  it  is  the  object.  Locke,  he  asserts,  like  Arnauld,  consid- 
ered the  idea  perceived  and  the  percipient  act  to  constitute  the 
same  indivisible  modification  of  the  conscious  mind.  This  we 
sludl  consider. 

In  his  language,  Locke  is,  of  all  philosophers,  the  most  figura- 
tive, ambiguous,  vacillating,  various,  and  even  contradictory ;  as 
has  been  noticed  by  Reid  and  Stewart,  and  Brown  himself,  — 
indeed,  we  believe,  by  every  philosopher  who  has  had  occasion 
to  animadvert  on  Locke.  The  opinions  of  such  a  writer  are 
not,  therefore,  to  be  assumed  from  isolated  and  casual  expres- 
sions, which  themselves  require  to  be  interpreted  on  the  general 

25 


290 


VARIOUS  TIIEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


analoj?^'  of  the  system  ;  and  yet  this  is  the  only  ground  on  which 
Dr.  Brown  attempts  to  establish  his  conclusions.  Thus,  on  the 
matter  under  discussion,  though  really  distinguishing,  Locke 
verbally  confounds,  the  objects  of  sense  and  of  pure  intellect, 
the  operation  and  its  object,  the  objects  immediate  and  mediate, 
the  object  and  its  relations,  the  images  of  fancy  and  the  notions 
of  the  understanding.  Consciousness  is  converted  with  Per- 
ception ;  Perception  with  Idea ;  Idea  with  the  object  of  Per- 
ception, and  with  Notion,  Conception,  Phantasm,  Kepresentation, 
Sense,  Meaning,  etc.  Now,  his  language  identifying  ideas  and 
perceptions,  appears  conformable  to  a  disciple  of  Arnauld ;  and 
now  it  proclaims  him  a  follower  of  Democritus  and  Digby, — 
explaining  ideas  by  mechanical  impulse  and  the  propagation  of 
material  particles  from  the  external  reality  to  the  brain.  In 
one  passage,  the  idea  would  seem  an  organic  affection,  —  the 
mere  occasion  of  a  spiritual  representation ;  in  another,  a  rep- 
resentative image,  in  the  l)rain  itself.  In  employing  thus  indif- 
ferently the  language  of  every  hypothesis,  may  we  not  suspect 
that  he  was  anxious  to  be  made  responsible  for  none?  One, 
however,  he  lias  formally  rejected,  and  that  is  the  very  opinion 
attributed  to  him  by  Dr.  Brown,  —  that  the  idea,  or  object  of 
consciousness  in  perception,  is  only  a  modification  of  the  mind 
itself. 

I  do  not  deny  that  Locke  occasionally  employs  expressions, 
whicli,  in  a  writer  of  more  considerate  language,  would  inii)ly 
the  identity  of  ideas  with  the  act  of  knowledge ;  and,  under  the 
circumstances,  I  should  have  considered  suspense  more  rational 
than  a  dogmatic  confidence  in  any  conclusion,  did  not  the  follow- 
ing passage,  which  has  never,  I  believe,  been  noticed,  afford  a 
positive  and  explicit  contradiction  of  Dr.  Brown's  interpreta- 
tion. It  is  from  Locke's  Examination  of  Malehranche's  Opin- 
iorij  which,  as  subsequent  to  the  publication  cjf  the  Essay,  must 
be  held  decisive  in  relation  to  the  doctrines  of  that  work.  •  At 
the  same  time,  the  statement  is  articulate  and  precise,  and  pos- 
sesses all  the  authority  of  one  cautiously  emitted  in  the  course 
of  a  polemical  discussion.  Malebranche  coincided  with  Arnaukl, 
Reid,  and  recent  philosophers  in  general,  and  consequently  with 


VARIOUS  THEORIES   OF  PERCEPTION. 


291 


Locke,  as  interpreted  by  Brown,  to  the  extent  of  supposing  that 
sensation  proper  is  nothing  but  a  state  or  modification  of  the 
mind  itself;  and  Locke  had  thus  the  opportunity  of  expressing, 
in  retard  to  this  opinion,  his  agreement  or  dissent.  An  acqui- 
escence in  the  doctrine,  that  the  secondary  qualities,  of  which 
we  are  conscious  in  sensation,  are  merely  mental  states,  by  no 
means  involves  an  admission  that  the  primary  qualities,  of  which 
we  are  conscious  in  perception,  are  nothing  more.  Malebranche, 
for  example,  affirms  the  one  and  denies  the  other.  But  if  Locke 
be  found  to  ridicule,  as  he  does,  even  the  opinion  which  merely 
reduces  the  secondary  qualities  to  mental  states,  a  fortiori,  and 
this  on  the  principle  of  his  own  philosophy,  he  must  be  held  to 
reject  the  doctrine,  which  would  reduce  not  only  the  non-resem- 
bling sensations  of  the  secondary,  but  even  the  resembling,  and 
consequently  extended,  ideas  of  the  primary,  quaUties  of  matter 
to  modifications  of  the  immaterial  unextended  mind.  In  these 
cu-cumstances,  the  following  passage  is  supei-fiuously  conclusive 
against  Brown ;  and  equally  so  wdiether  we  coincide  or  not  in 
all  the  doctrines  it  involves.  "  But  to  examine  their  doctrine  of 
modification  a  little  further.  —  Different  sentiments  (sensations) 
are  different  modifications  of  the  mind.  The  mind,-  or  soul, 
that  perceives,  is  one  immaterial  indivisible  substance.  Now  I 
see  the  white  and  black  on  this  paper ;  I  hear  one  singing  in 
the  next  room  ;  I  feel  the  warmth  of  the  fire  I  sit  by ;  and  I  taste 
an  api)le  I  am  eating,  and  all  tliis  at  the  same  time.  Now,  I 
ask,  take  modification  for  what  you  please,  can  the  same  unex- 
tended indivisible  substance  have  diflerent,  nay,  inconsistent  and 
opposite  (as  these  of  white  and  black  must  be)  modifications  at 
the  same  time  ?  Or  must  we  suppose  distinct  parts  in  an  indi- 
visible substance,  one  for  black,  another  for  white,  and  another 
for  red  ideas,  and  so  of  the  rest  of  those  infinite  sensations, 
which  we  have  in  sorts  and  degrees ;  all  which  we  can  dis- 
tinctly perceive,  and  so  are  distinct  ideas,  some  whereof  are 
opposite,  as  heat  and  cold,  which  yet  a  man  may  feel  at  the 
same  time  ?  I  was  ignorant  before,  how  sensation  w^as  performed 
in  us :  this  they  call  an  explanation  of  it !  Must  I  say  now  I 
understiind  it  better  ?     If  this  be  to  cure  one's  ignorance,  it  is  a 


292 


VARIOUS  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION. 


VARIOUS  THEORIES   OF  PERCEPTION. 


293 


very  slight  disease,  and  the  charm  of  two  or  three  insignificant 
words  will  at  any  time  remove  it ;  prohatum  est." 

But  if  it  be  thus  evident  that  Locke  held  neither  the  third 
form  of  representation,  that  lent  to  him  by  Brown,  nor  even  the 
second  ;  it  follows  that  Reid  did  him  any  thing  but  injustice,  in 
supposing  him  to  maintain  that  ideas  are  objects,  either  in  the 
brain,  or  in  the  mind  itself.  Even  the  more  material  of  these 
alternatives  has  been  the  one  generally  attributed  to  him  by.  his 
critics,  and  the  one  adopted  from  him  by  his  disciples.  Nor  is 
this  to  be  deemed  an  opinion  too  monstrous  to  be  entertained  by 
so  enlightened  a  philosopher.  It  was  the  common  opinion  of 
the  age ;  the  opinion,  in  particular,  lield  by  the  most  illustrious 
philosophers,  his  countrymen  and  contemporaries,  —  by  Newton, 
Clarke,  Willis,  Hook,  etc. 

Held  and  Brown  on  Hobhes.  —  To  adduce  Ilobbes  as  an  in- 
stance of  Reid's  misrepresentation  of  the  "  common  doctrine  of 
ideas,"  betrays,  on  the  part  of  Brown,  a  total  misapprehension 
of  the  conditions  of  the  question ;  or  he  forgets  that  Hobbes 
was  a  materialist.  The  doctrine  of  representation,  under  all  its 
modifications,  is  properly  subordinate  to  the  doctrine  of  a  spir- 
itual principle  of  thought ;  and  on  the  supposition,  all  but  uni- 
versally admitted  among  philosophers,  that  the  relation  of 
knowledge  implied  the  analogy  of  existence,  it  was  mainly 
devised  to  explain  the  possibility  of  a  knowledge  by  an  imma- 
terial subject,  of  an  existence  so  disproportioned  to  its  nature, 
as  the  qualities  of  a  material  object.  Contending,  that  an  im- 
mediate cognition  of  the  accidents  of  matter,  infers  an  essential 
identity  of  matter  and  mind,  Brown  himself  admits,  that  the 
hypothesis  of  representation  belongs  exclusively  to  the  doctrine 
of  dualism ;  whilst  Reid,  assailing  the  hypothesis  of  ideas  only 
as  subverting  the  reality  of  matter,  could  hardly  regard  it  as 
parcel  of  that  scheme,  which  acknowledges  the  reality  of  noth- 
ing else.  But  though  Hobbes  cannot  be  adduced  as  a  com[)etcnt 
witness  against  Reid,  he  is,  however,  valid  evidence  against 
Brown.  Hobbes,  though  a  materialist,  admitted  no  knowledge 
of  an  external  Avorld.  Like  his  friend  Sorbiere,  he  was  a  kind 
of  Material  Idealist.     According  to  him,  we  know  nothing  of 


the  qualities  or  existence  of  any  outward  reality.  All  that  wo 
know  is  the  "seeming,"  the  "apparition,"  the  "aspect,"  the 
" phaenomenon,"  the  "phantasm,"  within  ourselves;  and  this 
subjective  object,  of  which  we  are  conscious,  and  which  is  con- 
sciousness itself,  is  nothing  more  than  the  "  agitation  "  of  our 
internal  organism,  determined  by  the  unknown  "motions," 
which  ai-e  supposed,  in  like  manner,  to  constitute  the  world 
without.  Perception  he  reduces  to  Sensation.  Memory  and 
Imagination  are  faculties  specifically  identical  with  Sense,  dif- 
fering from  it  simply  in  the  degree  of  their  vivacity ;  and  this 
difference  of  intensity,  with  Hobbes  as  with  Hume,  is  the  only 
discrimination  between  our  dreaminor  and  our  wakinij  thoughts. 
—  A  doctrine  of  j^erception  identical  with  Reid's! 

Le  Clerc  and  Crousaz.  —  Dr.  Brown  at  length  proceeds  to 
consummate  his  victory,  by  "  that  most  decisive  evidence,  found 
not  in  treatises  read  only  by  a  few,  but  in  the  popular  elemen- 
tary works  of  science  of  the  time,  the  general  text-books  of 
schools  and  colleges."  He  quotes  however,  only  two,  —  the 
Pneumatology  of  Le  Clerc,  and  the  Logic  of  Crousaz. 

"  Le  Clerc,"  says  Dr.  Brown,  "  in  his  chapter  on  the  nature 
of  ideas,  gives  the  history  of  the  opinions  of  philosophers  on  this 
subject,  and  states  among  them  the  very  doctrine  which  is  most 
forcibly  and  accurately  opposed  to  the  ideal  system  of  percep- 
tion. ["  Others  suppose,"  says  Le  Clerc,  "  that  an  idea  and  the 
perception  of  an  idea  are  the  same  thing,  though  they  differ  in 
their  relations.  The  idea,  as  they  think,  is  properly  referred  to 
the  object  which  the  mind  considers,  while  the  perception  is  re- 
ferred to  the  mind  itself  which  perceives ;  but  this  twofold  rela- 
tion belongs  to  one  and  the  same  modification  of  mind.  There- 
fore, according  to  these  jdiilosophers,  there  are  not,  properly 
speaking,  any  ideas  distinct  from  the  mind."]  What  is  it,  I 
may  ask,  which  Dr.  Reid  considers  himself  as  having  added  to 
this  very  philosophical  view  of  perception?  and  if  he  added 
nothing,  it  is  surely  too  much  to  ascribe  to  him  the  merit  of 
detecting  errors,  the  counter-statement  of  which  had  long  formed 
a  part  of  the  elementary  works  of  the  schools." 

In  the  first  place,  Dr.  Reid  certainly  "  added "  nothing  "  to 

25  * 


294 


VARIOUS  theorip:s  of  perception. 


this  very  philosophical  view  of  perception,"  but  he  exploded 
it  altoirether.  In  the  second,  it  is  false  either  that  this  doc- 
trine  of  perception  "  had  long  formed  part  of  the  elementary 
works  of  the  schools,"  or  that  Le  Clerc  affords  any  countenance 
to  this  assertion.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  virtually  stated  by  him 
to  be  the  novel  paradox  of  a  single  philosopher ;  nay,  it  is 
already,  as  such  a  singular  opinion,  discussed  and  referred  to 
its  author  by  Reid  himself.  Had  Dr.  Brown  proceeded  from 
the  tenth  paragraph,  which  he  quotes,  to  the  fourteenth,  which 
he  could  not  have  read,  he  w(Jlild  have  found  that  the  passage 
extracted,  so  far  from  containing  the  statement  of  an  old  and 
familiar  dogma  in  the  schools,  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a 
statement  of  the  contemporary  hypothesis  of  Antony  Arnauld, 
and  of  Antony  Arnauld  alone.  In  the  third  place,  from  the 
mode  in  which  he  cites  Le  Clerc,  his  silence  to  the  contrary, 
and  the  general  tenor  of  his  statement.  Dr.  Brown  would  lead 
us  to  believe  that  Le  Clerc  himself  coincides  in  "  this  very  phi- 
losophical view  of  perception."  So  far,  however,  from  coin- 
ciding with  Arnauld,  he  pronounces  his  opinion  to  be  false; 
controverts  it  upon  very  solid  grounds ;  and  in  delivering  his 
own  doctrine  touching  ideas,  though  sufficiently  cautious  in  tell- 
ing us  what  they  are,  he  has  no  hesitation  in  assuring  us, 
among  other  things  which  they  cannot  be,  that  they  are  not 
modiiications  or  essential  states  of  mind.  ["The  idea,"  says 
Le  Clerc,  "  is  not  a  modification,  nor  is  it  the  essence,  of  the 
mind ;  for,  besides  the  fact  that  there  is  a  great  difference  be- 
tween the  perception  of  an  idea  and  a  sensation,  what  is  there 
in  the  mind  which  is  like  a  mountain,  or  many  other  ideas  of 
this  sort?"]  Such  is  the  judgment  of  that  authority  to  which 
Dr.  Brown  appealed  as  the  most  decisive. 

In  Crousaz,  Dr.  Brown  has  actually  succeeded  in  finding  one 
example  (he  might  have  found  twenty)  of  a  philosopher,  before 
Reid,  holding  the  same  theory  of  ideas  with  Arnauld  and  him- 
self. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


THE  PRESENT ATIVE   FACULTY.  -  PERCEPTION. 

NATURAL   REALIST  ? 


WAS  REID  A 


In  the  last  chapter,  I  concluded  the  review  of  Reid's  Histori- 
cal Account  of  the  previous  Opinions  on  Perception.     In  enter- 
ing upon  this  review,  I  proposed  the  following  ends.     In  the 
first  place,  to  afford  you,  not  certainly  a  complete,  but  a  compe- 
tent insight  into  the  various  theories  on  this  subject ;  and  this 
was  sufficiently  accomplished  by  limiting  myself  to  the  opinions 
touched  upon  by  Reid.     My  aim,  in  the  second  place,  was  to 
correct  some   errors   of  Reid  arising  from,  and  illustrative  of, 
those   fundamental    misconceptions    which    have   infected   his 
whole  doctrine  of  the  cognitive  faculties  with  confusion  and 
error ;  and,  in  the  third  place,  I  had  in  view  to  vindicate  Reid 
from  the  attack  made  on  him  by  Brown.     Perception,  as  mat- 
ter of  psychological  consideration,  is  of  the  very  highest  impor- 
tance in  philosophy;  as  the  doctrine  in  regard  to  the  object 
and  operation  of  this  faculty  affords  the  immediate  data  for 
determining  the  great  question  touching  the  existence  or  non- 
existence of  an  external  world  ;  and  there  is  hardly  a  problem 
of  any  moment  in  the  whole  compass  of  philosophy,  of  which 
it  does  not  mediately  affect  the  solution.     The  doctrine  of  per- 
ception may  thus  be  viewed  as  a  cardinal  point  of  philosophy. 
It  is  also  exclusively  in  relation  to  this  faculty,  that  Reid  must 
claim  his  great,  his  distinguishing  glory,  as  a  philosopher ;  and 
of  this  no  one  was  more  conscious  than  himself.     "  The  merit," 
he  says,  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  James  Gregory,  "  of  what  you  are 
pleased  to  call  my  philosophy,  lies,  I  think,  chiefly  in  having 

called  in  question   the  common  tlieory  of  ideas  or  images  of 

(295) 


296 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL    REALIST? 


things  in  the  mind  being  the  only  objects  of  thonglit  —  a  theory 
founded  on  natural  prejudices,  and  so  universally  received,  as 
to  be  interwoven  with  the  structure  of  language^"  "  I  think  " 
he  adds,  '*  there  is  liardly  any  thing  that  can  be  called  science 
in  the  philosophy  of  the  mind,  which  does  not  follow  with  ease 
from  the  detection  of  this  prejudice." 

To  enable  you  provisionally  to  understand  Reid's  errors,  I 
showed  you  how,  holding  himself  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  or 
immediate  perception  of  external  things,  he  did  not  see  that  the 
counter  doctrine  of  a  mediate  or  representative  perception  ad- 
mitted of  a  subdivision  into  two  forms,  —  a  simpler  and  a  more 
complex.  The  simpler,  that  the  immediate  or  representative 
object  is  a  mere  modification  of  the  percipient  mind,  —  the 
more  complex,  that  this  representative  object  is  something  dif- 
ferent both  from  the  reality  and  from  the  mind.  His  ignorance 
of  these  two  forms  has  caused  him  great  confusion,  and  intro- 
duced much  subordinate  error  into  his  system,  as  he  has  often 
confounded  the  simpler  form  of  the  representative  hypothesis 
with  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception;  but  if  he  be 
allowed  to  have  held  the  essential  doctrine  of  an  immediate 
perception,  his  errors  in  regard  to  the  various  forms  of  the  rep- 
resentative hypothesis  must  be  viewed  as  accidental,  and  com- 
paratively unimportant. 

Brown's  errors,  on  the  contrary,  are  vital.  In  the  first  place, 
he  is  fundamentally  wrong  in  holding,  in  the  teeth  of  conscious- 
ness, that  the  mind  is  incapable  of  an  immediate  knowledge  of 
aught  but  its  own  modes.  He  adopts  the  simpler  form  of  a 
representative  perception.  In  the  second  place,  he  is  wrong  in 
reversing  Reid's  whole  doctrine,  by  attributing  to  him  the  same 
opinion,  on  this  point,  which  he  himself  maintains.  In  the  third 
place,  he  is  wrong  in  thinking  that  Reid  only  attacked  the  more 
complex,  and  not  the  more  dangerous,  form  of  the  representa- 
tive hypothesis,  and  did  not  attack  the  hypothesis  of  representa- 
tion altogether.  In  the  fourth  .place,  he  is  wrong  in  supposing 
that  modern  philosophers,  in  general,  held  the  simpler  form  of 
the  representative  hypothesis,  and  that  Reid  was,  therefore, 
mistaken  in  supposing  tliem  to  maintain  the  more  complex, — 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL   REALIST? 


297 


mistaken,  in  fact,  in  supposing  them  to  maintain  a  doctrine  dif- 
ferent from  his  own. 

Was  Reid  himself  a  Natural  Realist  ?  —  But  a  more  impor- 
tant historical  question  remains,  and  one  which  even  more 
affects  the  reputations  of  Reid  and  Brown.  It  is  this :  —  Did 
Reid,  as  Brown  supposes,  hold,  not  the  doctrine  of  Natural 
Realism,  but  the  finer  hypothesis  of  a  Representative  Percep- 
tion? 

If  Reid  did  hold  this  doctrine,  I  admit  at  once  that  Brown  is 
ri»ht.  Reid  accomplished  nothing;  his  philosophy  is  a  blun- 
der, and  his  whole  polemic  against  the  philosophers,  too  insig- 
nificant for  refutation  or  comment.  The  one  form  of  repre- 
Bcntation  may  be  somewhat  simpler  and  more  philosophical 
than  the  other ;  but  the  substitution  of  the  former  for  the  latter 
is  hardly  deserving  of  notice  ;  and  of  all  conceivable  hallucina- 
tions, the  very  greatest  would  be  that  of  Reid,  in  arrogating  to 
himself  the  merit  of  thus  subverting  the  foundation  of  Idealism 
and  Scepticism,  and  of  philosophers  at  large  in  acknowledging 
the  pretension.  The  idealist  and  sceptic  can  establish  their 
conclusions  indifferently  on  either  form  of  a  representative  per- 
ception ;  nay,  the  simpler  form  affords  a  securer,  as  the  more 
philosophical,  foundation.  The  idealism  of  Fichte  is  accord- 
ingly a  system  far  more  firmly  founded  than  the  idealism  of 
Berkeley ;  and  as  the  simpler  involves  a  contradiction  of  con- 
sciousness more  extensive  and  direct,  so  it  furnishes  to  the 
sceptic  a  longer  and  more  powerful  lever. 

The  distinction  of  Intuitive  and  Representative  Knowledge. — 
Before,  liowever,  discussing  this  question,  it  may  be  proper  here 
to  consider  more  particularly  a  matter  of  which  we  have 
hitherto  treated  only  by  the  way,  —  I  mean  the  distinction  of 
Immediate  or  Intuitive,  in  contrast  to  Mediate  or  Representa- 
tive, Knowledge.  This  is  a  distinction  of  the  most  important 
kind,  and  it  is  one  which  has,  however,  been  almost  wholly 
overlooked  by  philosophers.  This  oversight  is  less  to  be  won- 
dered at  in  those  who  allowed  no  immediate  knowledge  to  the 
mind,  except  of  its  proper  modes ;  in  their  systems  the  distinc- 
tion, though  it  still  subsisted,  had  little  relevancy  or  effect,  as  it 


298      INTUITIVE  AND  REPRESENTATIVE  KNOWLEDGE. 


INTUITIVE  AND  REPRESENTATIVE  KNOWLEDGE.       299 


did  not  discriminate  the  faculty  by  which  we  are  aware  of  the 
presence  of  external  objects,  from  that  by  which,  when  absent 
these  are  imaged  to  the  mind.  In  neither  case,  on  this  doc- 
trine, are  we  conscious  or  immediately  cognizant  of  the  external 
reality,  but  only  of  the  mental  mode  through  which  it  is  repre- 
sented. But  it  is  more  astonishing  that  those  who  maintain 
that  the  mind  is  immediately  percipient  of  external  thin^-s, 
should  not  have  signalized  this  distinction ;  as  on  it  is  estab- 
lished the  essential  difference  of  Perception  as  a  faculty  of 
Intuitive,  Imagination  as  a  faculty  of  Representative,  knowledge. 
But  the  marvel  is  still  more  enhanced  when  we  find  that  Reid 
and  Stewart  —  (if  to  them  this  opinion  really  belongs),  so  far 
from  distinguishing  Perception  as  an  immediate  and  intuitive, 
from  Imagination  (and  under  Imagination,  be  it  observed,  I 
include  both  the  Conception  and  the  Memory  of  these  philoso- 
phers) as  a  mediate  or  representative,  faculty,  —  in  language 
make  them  both  equally  immediate.  You  will  recollect  the 
refutation  I  formerly  gave  you  of  Reid's  self-contradictory  asser- 
tion, that  in  Memory  we  are  immediately  cognizant  of  that 
which,  as  past,  is  not  now  existent,  and  cannot,  therefore,  be 
known  in  itself;  and  that,  in  Imagination,  we  are  immediately 
cognizant  of  that  which  is  distant,  or  of  that  which  is  not,  and 
probably  never  was,  in  being.  Here  the  term  immediate  is 
either  absurd,  as  contradictory  ;  or  it  is  applied  only,  in  a  cer- 
tain special  meaning,  to  designate  the  simpler  form  of  repre- 
sentation, in  which  nothing  is  supposed  to  intervene  between 
the  mental  cognition  and  the  external  reality ;  in  contrast  to  the 
more  complex,  in  which  the  representative  or  vicarious  image 
is  supposed  to  be  something  different  from  both.  Thus,  in  con- 
sequence of  this  distinction  not  only  not  having  been  traced  by 
Reid  as  the  discriminative  principle  of  his  doctrine,  but  having 
been  even  overlaid,  obscured,  and  perplexed,  his  whole  philoso- 
phy has  been  involved  in  haze  and  confusion ;  insomuch  that  a 
philosopher  of  Brown's  acuteness  could  (as  we  have  seen  and 
shall  see)  actually  so  far  misconceive,  as  even  to  reverse  it3 
import.  The  di-tinction  is,  therefore,  one  which,  on  every  ac- 
count, merits  your   most    sedulous  attention;   but   though  of 


primary  importance,  it  is  fortunately  not  of  any  considerable 

difficulty. 

This  distinction  stated  and  illustrated.  —  As  every  cognitive 
act  which,  in  one  relation,  is  a  mediate  or  representative,  is,  in 
another,  an  immediate  or  intuitive,  knowledge,  let  us  take  a 
particular  instance  of  such  an  act ;  as  hereby  we  shall  at  once 
obtain  an  example  of  the  one  kind  of  knowdedge,  and  of  the 
other,  and  these  also-  in  proximate  contrast  to  each  other.  I 
call  up  an  image  of  the  High  Church  [a  Catliedral  edifice  in 
Edinburgli].  Now,  in  this  act,  what  do  I  know^  immediately  or 
intuitively  ;  wliat  mediately  or  by  representation  ?  It  is  mani- 
fest that  I  am  conscious,  or  immediately  cognizant,  of  all  that  is 
known  as  an  act  or  modification  of  my  mind,  and,  consequently, 
of  the  modification  or  act  wdiich  constitutes  the  mental  image 
of  the  Cathedral.  But  as,  in  this  operation,  it  is  evident,  that  I 
am  conscious,  or  immediately  cognizant,  of  the  Cathedral  as 
imaged  in  my  mind ;  so  it  is  equally  manifest,  that  I  am  not 
conscious  or  immediately  cognizant  of  the  Cathedral  as  existing. 
But  still  I  am  said  to  know  it ;  it  is  even  called  the  object  of 
my  thought.  I  can,  however,  only  know  it  mediately^  —  only 
through  the  mental  image  ichich  represents  it  to  consciousness ; 
and  it  can  only  be  styled  the  object  of  thought,  inasmuch  as  a 
reference  to  it  is  necessarily  involved  in  the  act  of  representa- 
tion. From  this  example  is  manifest,  wdiat  in  general  is  meant 
by  immediate  or  intuitive,  —  what,  by  mediate  or  representative 
knowledge.  All  philosophers  are  at  one  in  regard  to  the  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  our  present  mental  modijications ;  and  all 
are  equally  agreed,  if  we  remove  some  verbal  ambiguities,  that 
we  are  only  mediately  cognizant  of  all  past  thoughts,  objects, 
and  events,  and  of  every  external  reality  not  at  the  moment 
within  the  sphere  of  sense.  There  is  but  one  point  on  which 
they  are  now  at  variance,  —  namely,  w^h ether  the  thinking  sub- 
ject is  competent  to  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  aught  but  the 
modifications  of  the  mental  self;  in  other  words,  whether  we 
can  have  any  immediate  perception  of  external  things.  Waiv- 
ing, however,  this  question  for  the  moment,  let  us  articulately 
state  what  are  the  different  conditions  involved  in  the  two  kinds 
of  knowledge. 


800       INTUITIVE  AND  REPRESENTATIVE   KNOWLEDGE. 


INTUITIVE  AND  REPRESENTATIVE  KNOWLEDGE.      301 


In  the  Jirst  place,  considered  as  acts.  — An  act  of  immediate 
knowledge  is  simple ;  there  is  nothing  beyond  the  mere  con- 
sciousness, by  that  which  knows,  of  that  whicli  is  known.  Here 
consciousness  is  simply  contemplative.  On  the  contrary,  an  act 
of  mediate  knowledge  is  complex ;  for  the  mind  is  not  only  con- 
scious of  the  act  as  its  own  modification,  but  of  this  modification 
as  an  object  representative  of,  or  relative  to,  an  object  beyond 
the  sphere* of  consciousness.  In  this  act,  consciousness  is  both 
representative  and  contemplative  of  the  representation. 

In  the  second  place,  i7i  relation  to  their  objects.  —  In  an  im- 
mediate cognition,  the  object  is  single,  and  the  term  unequivocal. 
Here,  the  object  in  consciousness  and  the  object  in  existence  are 
the  same ;  in  the  language  of  the  Schools,  the  esse  intentionale 
or  representativum  coincides  with  the  esse  entitativtim.     In  a 
mediate  cognition,  on  the  other  hand,  the  object  is  twofold,  and 
the  term  equivocal ;  the  object  known  and  representing  being 
different  from  the  object  unkno^vn,  except  as  represented.     The 
immediate  object,  or  object  known  in  this  act,  should  be  called 
the  subjective  object,  or  subject-object,  in  contradistinction  to  the 
mediate  or  unknown  object,  which  might  be  discriminated  as  the 
object-object.     A  slight  acquaintance  with  philosophical  writings 
will  show  you  how  necessary  such  a  distinction  is ;  the  want  of 
it  has  caused  Reid  to  puzzle  himself,  and  Kant  to  perplex  his 
readers. 

In  the  third  place,  considered  as  judgments  (for  you  will  rec- 
ollect that  every  act  of  Consciousness  involves  an  affirmation). 
—  In  an  intuitive  act,  the  object  known  is  known  as  actually 
existing ;  the  cognition,  therefore,  is  assertory,  inasmuch  as  the 
reahty  of  that,  its  object,  is  given  unconditionally  as  a  fact.  In 
a  representative  act,  on  the  contrary,  the  represented  object  is 
unknown  as  actually  existing ;  tlie  cognition,  therefore,  is  prob- 
lematical, the  reality  of  the  object  represented  being  only  given 
as  a  possibility,  on  the  hypothesis  of  the  object  representing. 

In  the  fourth  place,  in  relation  to  their  sphere.  —  Representa- 
tive knowledge  is  exclusively  subjective,  for  its  immediate  object 
is  a  mere  mental  modification,  and  its  mediate  object  is  unknown, 
except  in  so  far  as  that  modification  represents  it.     Intuitive 


knowledge,  on  the  other  hand,  if  consciousness  is  to  be  credited, 
is  either  subjective  or  objective,  for  its  single  object  may  be 
either  a  phaenomenon  of  the  ego  or  of  the  non-ego,  —  either 
mental  or  material. 

In  the  Jifth  place,  considered  in  reference  to  their  perfection. 

An  intuitive  cognition,  as  an  act,  is  complete  and  absolute,  as 

irrespective  of  aught  beyond  the  dominion  of  consciousness ; 
whereas,  a  representative  cognition,  as  an  act,  is  incomplete, 
beino-  relative  to,  and  vicarious  of,  an  existence  beyond  the 
sphere  of  actual  knowledge.  The  object  likewise  of  the  former 
is  complete,  being  at  once  known  and  real;  whereas,  in  the 
latter,  the  object  known  is  ideal,  the  real  object  unknown.  In 
their  relations  to  each  other,  immediate  knowledge  is  complete, 
as  self-sufficient ;  mediate  knowledge,  on  the  contrary,  is  incom- 
plete, as  dependent  on  the  other  for  its  realization. 

[For  the  sake  of  distinctness,  I  shall  state  [over  again  and 
more  fully]  the  different  momenta  of  the  distinction  in  separate 
Propositions ;  and  these  for  more  convenient  reference  I  shall 
number. 

1.  —  A  thing  is  known  immediately  or  proximately,  when  we 
cognize  it  in  itself;  mediately  or  remotely,  when  we  cognize  it 
in  or  through  something  numerically  different  from  itself  Im- 
mediate cognition,  thus  the  knowledge  of  a  thing  in  itself,  in- 
volves the  fact  of  its  existence ;  mediate  cognition,  thus  the 
knowledge  of  a  thing  in  or  through  something  not  itself,  involves 
only  the  possibility  of  its  existence. 

2.  —  An  immediate  cognition,  inasmuch  as  the  thing  known 
is  itself  presented  to  observation,  may  be  called  a  presentative  ; 
and  inasmuch  as  the  thing  presented  is,  as  it  w^ere,  viewed  by  the 
mind  face  to  face,  may  be  called  an  intuitive  cognition.  —  A 
mediate  cognition,  inasmuch  as  the  thing  known  is  held  up  or 
mirrored  to  the  mind  in  a  vicarious  representation,  may  be  called 
a  representative  cognition. 

3.  —  A  thing  known  is  called  an  object  of  knowledge. 

4 —  In  a  presentative  or  immediate  cognition  there  is  one  sole 
object;  the  thing  (immediately)  known  and  the  thing  existing 
being  one  and  the  same.  —  In  a  representative  or  mediate  cog- 

26 


.?» 


302      INTUITIVE  AND  REPRESENTATIVE   KNOWLEDGE. 

nition  there  may  be  discriminated  two  ohjects  ;  the  thing  (imme- 
diately) known  and  the  thing  existing  being  numerically  dif- 
ferent. 

5.  —  A  thing  known  in  itself  is  the  (sole)  presenfafive  or 
intuitive  object  of  knowledge,  or  the  (sole)  object  of  a  prescnta- 
Hve  or  iyitmtive  knotvledcje.  —  A  Xhmcr  known  in  and  throuqh 
something  else  is  Ww primary,  mediate,  remote:*  real,  existent,' or 
represented,  object  of  (mediate)  knowledge,  objectum  quod;  and 
a  thing  through  lohich  something  else  is  known  is  the  secondary, 
immediate,  proximate,  ideal,  vicarious,  or  representative,  object 
of  (mediate)  knowledge,  —  objectum  quo  or  per  quod.  The  for- 
uaer  may  likewise  be  styled  objectum  entitativum. 

6.  — If  the  representative  object  be  supposed   (according  to 
<Mie  theory)   a  mode  of  the  conscious  mind  or  self,  it  may  be 
distinguished   as  Egoistical;  if  it    be   supposed    (according  to 
another)   something  numerically  ditferent   from    the    conscious 
mind  or  self,  it  may  be  distinguished  as  Non-Egoistical     The 
former  theory  supposes   two  things   numerically  different-  1° 
the  object   represented,  ~  2°,  the   representing  and  cognizani 
mmd:  — the  latter, //iree;  1°,  the  object  represented,  —  2°  the 
object   representing,  _  3°,    the    cognizant    mind.       Compared 
merely  with  each  other,  the  former,  as  simpler,  may,  by  contrast 
to  the  latter,  be  considered,  but  still  inaccurately,  as  an  imme- 
diate cognition.     The  latter  of  these,  as  limited  in  its  application 
to  certam  faculties,  and  now  in  fact  wholly  exploded,  may  be 
thrown  out  of  account. 

7.  —  External  Perception,  or  Perception  simply,  is  the  faculty 
presentative  or  intuitive  of  the  plienomena  of  the  Non-E-o  or 

*  The  distinction  of  prorhnate  and  remote  object  is  sometimes  applied  to 
perception  m  a  different  manner.  Tims  Color  (the  white  of  the  wall  for 
instance)  ,s  said  to  l>e  ih^  pro.hnate  object  of  vision,  because  it  is  seen  im- 
mediately; the  colored  thin^,^  (the  wall  itself  for  instance)  is  said  to  be 
he  reruote  o^ect  of  vision,  becanse  it  is  seen  only  thron.h  the  medintiun  of 
tfie  color.  This  however  is  inaccurate.  For  the  wall,  that  in  which  the 
color  mlKTcs,  however  mediately  known,  is  never  mediatelv  seen.  It  is 
not  indeed  an  object  oi  perception  at  all;  it  is  onlv  the  subject  of  such  an 
object,  and  is  reached  by  a  cognitive  process,  different  from  the  merely 
percepnve. 


INTUITIVE  AND  REPRESENTATIVE  KNOWLEDGE.       303 

jjijifter  —  if  there  be  any  intuitive  apprehension  allowed  of  th^^. 
Non-E""0  at  all.  Internal  Perception  or  Self-consciousuess  is 
the  faculty  presentative  or  intuitive  of  the  phenomena  of  ilie 
Ego  or  mind. 

8.  —  Imagination  or  Phantasy,  in  its  most  extensive  meaning, 
is  the  faculty  representative  of  the  phenomena  both  of  the  ex- 
ternal and  internal  worlds. 

9.  —  A  representation  considered  as  an  object  is  logically,  net 
really,  different  from  a  representation  considered  as  an  act. 
Here,  object  and  act  are  merely  the  same  indivisible  mode  of 
mind  viewed  in  two  ditferent  relations.  Considered  by  refer- 
ence to  a  (mediate)  object  represented,  it  is  a  representative 
object ;  considered  by  reference  to  the  mind  representing  and 
contemplating  the  rei)resentation,  it  is  a  representative  act.  A 
representative  object  being  viewed  as  posterior  in  the  order  of 
nature,  but  not  of  time,  to  the  representative  act,  is  viewed  as  a 
product;  and  the  representative  act  being  viewed  as  prior  in 
the  order  of  nature,  though  not  of  time,  to  the  representative 
object,  is  viewed  as  a  producing  process.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  Image  and  Imagination.  i 

10.  —  A  thing  to  be  known  in  itself  must  be  kno^^^l  as  act- 
ludhj  existing,  and  it  cannot  be  known  as  actually  existing  unless 
it  be  known  as  existing  in  its  When  and  its  Whei-e.  But  the 
When  and  Where  of  an  object  are  immediately  cognizable  by 
the  subject,  only  if  the  When  be  now  (i.  e.  at  the  same  moment 
with  the  cognitive  act),  and  the  Where  be  here  (i.  e.  within  the 
si)hero  of  the  cognitive  fiiculty)  ;  therefore  a  presentative  or 
intuitive  knowledge  is  only  competent  of  an  object  present  to 
the  mind,  both  in  tirne  and  in  space. 

11.  —  E  converso  —  whatever  is  known,  but  not  as  actually 
existing  now  and  here,  is  known  not  in  itself,  as  the  presentative 
object  of  an  intuitive,  but  only  as  the  remote  object  of  a  repre- 
sentative, cognition. 

12. — A  representative  object,  considered  irrespectively  of 
what  it  represents,  and  simply  as  a  mode  of  the  conscious  sub- 
ject, is  an  intuitive  or  presentative  object.  For  it  is  known  in 
itself,  as  a  mental  mode,  actually  existing  now  and  here. 


304      INTUITIVE  AND  REPRESENTATIVE  KNOWLEDGE. 


WAS   REID  A  NATURAL    REALIST? 


305 


13-  —  The  ac^Mo/ modifications  —  the  present  acts  and  affections 
of  the  Ugo,  are  objects  of  immediate  cognition,  as  themselves 
objects  of  consciousness.  The  past  and  possible  modifications 
of  the  Ego  are  objects  of  mediate  cognition,  as  represented  to 
consciousness  in  a  present  or  actual  modification. 

14.  —  As  not  710W  present  in  time,  an  immediate  knowled^rg 
of  the  past  is  impossible.  The  past  is  only  immediately  cogni- 
zable  in  and  through  a  present  modification  relative  to,  and 
representative  of,  it  as  having  been.  To  speak  of  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  the  past  involves  a  contradiction  in  adjecto.  For 
to  know  the  past  immediately,  it  must  be  known  in  itself;  — 
and  to  be  known  in  itself,  it  must  be  known  as  now  existing. 
But  the  past  is  just  a  negation  of  the  now  existent :  it^  very 
notion,  therefore,  excludes  the  possibility  of  its  being  imme- 
diately  known.  So  much  for  Memory,  or  RecoUective  Imagi- 
nation. 

15.  — In  like  manner,  supposing  that  a  knowledge  of  the 
future  were  competent,  this  can  only  be  conceived  possible  in 
and  through  a  now  present  representation  ;  that  is,  only  as  a 
mediate  cognition.  For,  as  not  yet  existent,  the  future  cannot 
be  known  in  itself,  or  as  actually  existent.  As  not  here  present, 
an  immediate  knowledge  of  an  object  distant  in  space  is  hke- 
wise  impossible.  For,  as  beyond  the  sphere  of  our  organs  and 
faculties,  it  cannot  be  known  by  them  in  itself;  it  can  only, 
therefore,  if  known  at  all,  be  known  through  something  different 
from  itself,  —  that  is  mediately,  in  a  reproductive  or  a  construc- 
tive act  of  imagination. 

l&.  —  A  possible  object  — an  e7is  ra^ioms  —  is  a  mere  fiibri- 
cation  of  the  mind  itself;  it  exists  only  ideally  in  and  through 
an  act  of  imagination,  and  has  only  a  logical  existence,  apart 
from  that  act  with  which  it  is  really  identical.  It  is  therefore 
fm  intuitive  object  in  itself;  but  in  so  far  a.s,  not  involving  a 
contradiction,  it  is  conceived  as  prefiguring  something  which  may 
po>sibly  exist  some-where  and  some-when  —  thi^  something, 
too,  being  constructed  out  of  elements  which  had  been  previ- 
ously given  in  Presentation  —  it  is  Representative.]  —  i>m. 
supp.  to  Reid. 


Such  are  the  two  kinds  of  knowledge  which  it  is  necessary  to 
distinguish,  and  such  are  the  principal  contrasts  they  present. 
I  said  a  little  ago  that  this  distinction,  so  far  from  being  signal- 
ized, had  been  almost  abolished  by  philosophers.  I  ought,  how- 
ever, to  have  excepted  certain  of  the  Schoolmen,  by  whom  this 
discrimination  was  not  only  taken,  but  admirably  applied ;  and, 
though  I  did  not  originally  borrow  it  from  them,  I  was  happy  to 
find  that  what  I  had  thought  out  for  myself,  was  confirmed  by 
the  authority  of  these  subtle  spirits.  The  names  given  in  the 
Schools  to  the  immediate  and  mejliate  cognitions  were  intuitive 
and  abstractive,  meaning  by  the  latter  term  not  merely  what  we, 
with  them,  call  abstract  knowledge,  but  also  the  representations 
of  concrete  objects  in  the  imagination  or  memory. 

Order  of  the  discussion.  —  Having  now  prepared  you  for  the 
question  concerning  Reid,  I  shall  proceed  to  its  consideration ; 
and  shall,  in  the  first  place,  state  the  arguments  that  may  be 
adduced  in  fiivor  of  the  opinion,  that  Reid  did  not  assert  a  doc- 
trine of  Natural  Realism,  —  did  not  accept  the  fact  of  the  dual- 
ity of  consciousness  in  its  genuine  integrity,  but  only  deluded 
himself  with  the  belief  that  he  was  originating  a  new  or  an  impor- 
tant opinion,  by  the  adoption  of  the  simpler  form  of  Represen- 
tation ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  state  the  arguments  that  may 
be  alleged  in  support  of  the  opposite  conclusion,  that  his  doctrine 
is  in  truth  the  simple  doctrine  of  Natural  Realism. 

Brown's  interpretation  of  Reid's  doctrine  refuted.  —  But  be- 
fore proceeding  to  state  the  grounds  on  which  alone  I  conceive 
any  presumption  can  be  founded,  that  Reid  is  not  a  Natural 
Realist,  but,  like  Brown,  a  Cosmothetic  Idealist,  I  shall  state 
and  refute  the  only  attempt  made  by  Brown  to  support  this,  his 
interpretation  of  Reid's  fundamental  doctrine.  Brown's  inter- 
pretation of  Reid  seems,  in  fact,  not  grounded  on  any  thing 
which  he  found  in  Reid,  but  simply  on  his  own  assumption  of 
what  Reid's  opinion  must  be.  For,  marvellous  as  it  may  sound, 
Brow^n  hardly  seems  to  have  contemplated  the  possibility  of  an 
immediate  knowledge  of  any  thing  beyond  the  sphere  of  self; 
and  I  should  say,  without  qualification,  that  he  had  never  at  all 
imagined  this  possibility,  were  it  not  for  the  single  attempt  he 

26* 


306 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL   REALIST? 


makes  at  a  proof  of  the  impossibility  of  Reid  holding  such  an 
opinion,  when  on  one  occasion  Reid's  language  seems  for  a  mo- 
ment to  have  actually  suggested  to  him  the  question :  Miglit 
that  philosoi)her  not  periiaps  regard  the  external  object  as  iden- 
tical with  the  immediate  object  in  perception  ? 

Now  the  sum  and  substance  of  [Brown's]  reasoning  is,  as 
far  as  I  can  comprehend  it,  to  the  following  effect :  —  To  assert 
an  immediate  perception  of  material  qualities,  is  to  assert  an 
identity  of  matter  and  mind ;  for  that  which  is  immediately 
known  must  be  the  same  in  nature  as  that  which  immediately 
knows. 

But  Reid  was  not  a  materialist,  was  a  sturdy  spiritualist; 
therefore  he  could  not  really  maintain  an  immediate  perception 
of  the  qualities  of  matter. 

The  whole  validity  of  this  argument  consists  in  the  truth  of 
the  major  proposition  (for  the  minor  proposition,  that  Reid  was 
not  a  materialist,  is  certain),  —  To  assert  an  immediate  percep- 
tion of  material  qualities,  is  to  assert  an  identity  of  matter  and 
mind;  for  that  which"  is  immediately  known  must  be  the  same 
in  essence  as  that  which  immediately  knows. 

Now,  in  support  of  the  proposition  which  constitutes  the 
foundation  of  his  argument.  Brown  offers  no  proof.  He  as- 
sumes it  as  an  axiom.  But  so  far  from  his  being  entitled  to  do 
so,  by  its  being  too  evident  to  fear  denial,  it  is,  on  the  contrary, 
not  only  not  obtrusively  true,  but,  when  examined,  precisely 
the  reverse  of  truth. 

In  the/r5^  phice,  if  we  appeal  to  the  only  possible  arbiter  in 
the  case,  —  the  authority  of  consciousness,  —  we  find  that  con- 
sciousness gives  as  an  ultimate  fact,  in  the  unity  of  knowledge, 
the  duality  of  existence  ;  that  is,  it  assures  us  that,  in  the  act  of 
perception,  the  percipient  subject  is  at  once  conscious  of  some- 
thing which  it  distinguishes  as  a  modification  of  self,  and  of 
sometliing  which  it  distinguishes  as  a  modification  of  not-self. 
Reid,  therefore,  as  a  dualist,  and  a  dualist  founding?  not  on  the 
hypotheses  of  pliilosoi)hers,  but  on  the  data  of  consciousness, 
might  safely  maintain  the  fact  of  our  immediate  perception  of 
external  objects,  without  fear  of  involving  himself  in  an  asser- 
tion of  the  identity  of  mind  and  matter. 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL    REALIST? 


307 


But,  in  the  second  place,  if  Reid  did  not  maintain  this  imme- 
diacy of  perception,  and  assert  the  veracity  of  consciousness,  he 
would  at  once  be  forced  to  admit  one  or  other  of  the  unitarian 
conclusions  of  materialism  or  idealism.  Our  knowledge  of 
mind  and  matter,  as  substances,  is  merely  relative ;  they  are 
known  to  us  only  in  their  qualities  ;  and  we  can  justify  the  pos- 
tulation  of  t^vo  different  substances,  exclusively  on  the  supposi- 
tion of  the  incompatibility  of  the  double  series  of  phaenomena 
to  coinhere  in  one.  Is  this  supposition  disproved  ?  —  The  pre- 
sumption against  dualism  is  again  decisive.  Entities  are  not  to 
be  multiplied  without  necessity  ;  a  plurality  of  principles  is  not 
to  be  assumed,  where  the  pha3nomena  can  be  explained  by  one. 
In  Brown's  theory  of  perception,  he  abolishes*  the  incompati- 
bility of  the  two  series ;  and  yet  his  argument,  as  a  dualist,  for 
an  immaterial  principle  of  thought,  proceeds  on  the  ground  that 
this  incompatibility  subsists.  This  philosopher  denies  us  an 
immediate  knowledge  of  aught  beyond  the  accidents  of  mind. 
Tiie  accidents  which  we  refer  to  body,  as  known  to  us,  are  only 
states  or  modifications  of  the  percipient  subject  itself;  in  other 
words,  the  qualities  we  call  material^  are  known  by  us  to  exist, 
only  as  they  are  known  by  us  to  inhere  in  the  same  substance 
as  the  qualities  we  denominate  mental.  There  is  an  apparent 
antithesis,  but  a  real  identity.  On  this  doctrine,  the  hypothesis 
of  a  double  principle,  losing  its  necessity,  becomes  philosophi- 
cally absurd ;  on  the  law  of  parcimony,  a  psychological  unita- 
rianism  is  established.  To  the  argument,  that  the  qualities  of 
the  object,  are  so  repugnant  to  the  quahties  of  the  subject,  of 
perception,  that  they  cannot  be  supposed  the  accidents  of  the 
same  substance,  the  unitarian  —  whether  materialist,  ideaUst,  or 
absolutist  —  has  only  to  reply:  —  that  so  far  from  the  attri- 
butes of  the  object  being  exclusive  of  the  attributes  of  the  sub- 
ject, in  this  act,  the  hypothetical  dualist  himself  establishes,  as  the 
fundiunental  axiom  of  his  philosophy  of  mind,  that  the  object 
known  is  universally  identical  with  the  subject  knowing.  The 
materialist  may  now  derive  the  subject  from  the  object,  the 
idealist  derive  the  object  from  the  subject,  the  absolutist  subH- 
mate  both  into  indifference,  nay,  the  nihihst  subvert  the  sub- 


308 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL   REALIST? 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL   REALIST? 


309 


stantial  reality  of  either ;  —  the  hypothetical  realist,  so  far  from 
being  able  to  resist  the  conclusion  of  any,  in  fact  accords  their 
assumptive  premises  to  all. 

So  far,  tlierefore,  is  Brown's  argument  from  inferring  the  con- 
elusion,  that  Keid  could  not  have  maintained  our  immediate 
perception  of  external  objects,  that  not  only  is  its  inference  ex- 
pressly denied  by  Reid,  but  if  properly  applied,  it  would  prove 
the  very  converse  of  what  Brown  employs  it  to  establish. 

Second  reason  for  supposing   that  Reid  ivas  not  a  Natural 
Healist.  — But  there  is  a  ground  considerably  stronger  than 
that  on  which  Brown  has  attempted  to  evince  the  identity  of 
Reid's  opinion  on  perception  with  his  own.     This  ground  is  his 
equalizing  Perception  and  Imagination.     (Under  Imagination 
you  will  again   obser^^e  that  I  include  Reid's  Conception  and 
Memory.)     Other  philosophers  brought  perception  into  unison 
with  imagination,  by  making  perception  a  faculty  of  mediate 
knowledge.     Reid,   on    the  contrary,  has  brought  imagination 
into  unison  wirh  perception,  by  calling  imagination  a  faculty  of 
immediate  knowledge.     Now,  as  it  is  manifest  that,  in  an  act  of 
imagination,  the   object-object  is  and  can  possibly  be  known 
only,  mediately,  through  a  representation,  it  follows  that  we 
must  perforce  adopt  one  of  two  alternatives ;  —  we  may  either 
suppose  that  Reid  means  by  immediate  knowledge  only  that 
simpler  form  of  representation  from  which  the  idea  or  iertiwn 
quid,  intermediate  between  the  external  reality  and  the  con- 
scious mind,  is  thrown  out,  or  that,  in  his  extreme  horror  of  the 
hypothesis  of  ideas,  he  has  altogether  overlooked  the  fundamen- 
tal distinction  of  mediate  and  immediate  cognition,  by  which 
the  faculties  of  perception  and  imagination  are  discriminated; 
and  that  thus  his  very  anxiety  to  separate  more  widely  Ids  own 
doctrine  of  intuition  from  the  representative  hypothesis  of  the 
philosophers,  has,  in  fact,  caused  him  ahnost  inextricably  to 
confound  the  two  opinions. 

Positive  evidence  that  Reid  held  Natural  Realism. —  Th^i 
this  latter  alternative  is  greatly  the  more  probable,  I  shall  now 
proceed  to  show  you ;  and  in  doing  this,  I  beg  you  to  keep  in 
mind  the  necessary  contrasts  by  which  an  immediate  or  intui- 


tive is  opposed  to  a  mediate  or  representative  cognition.  The 
question  to  be  solved  is,  —  Does  Reid  hold  that  in  perception 
we  immediately  know  the  external  reality,  in  its  own  qualities, 
as  existing ;  or  only  mediately  know  them,  through  a  represen- 
tative modification  of  the  mind  itself  ?  In  the  following  proof, 
I  select  only  a  few  out  of  a  great  number  of  passages  which 
might  be  adduced  from  the  writings  of  Reid,  in  support  of  the 
?ame  conclusions.  I  am,  however,  confident  that  they  are  suffi- 
cient ;  and  quotations  longer  or  more  numerous  would  tend 
ratlier  to  obscure  than  to  illustrate. 

The  conditions  of  Immediate  Knowledge,  applied  to  Reid's 
statements.  —  In  the  frst  place,  knowledge  and  existence  are 
then  only  convertible  when  the  reality  is  known  in  itself;  for 
then  only  can  we  say,  that  it  is  known  because  it  exists,  and 
exists  since  it  is  known.  And  this  constitutes  an  immediate  or 
intuitive  cognition,  rigorously  so  called.  Nor  did  Reid  contem- 
plate any  other.  "  It  seems  admitted,"  he  says,  "  as  a  first 
principle,  by  the  learned  and  the  unleamed,  that  what  is  really 
perceived  must  exist,  and  that  to  perceive  what  does  not  exist 
is  impossible.  So  far  the  unleamed  man  and  the  philosopher 
agree." 

In  the  second  place,  philosophers  agree,  that  the  idea  or  rep- 
resentative object,  in  their  theory,  is,  in  the  strictest  sense,  imme- 
diately perceived.  And  so  Reid  understands  them.  "I  per- 
ceive not,  says  the  Cartesian,  the  external  object  itself  (so  far 
he  agrees  with  the  Peripatetic,  and  differs  from  the  unleai-ned 
man) ;  but  I  perceive  an  image,  or  form,  or  idea,  in  my  own 
mind,  or  in  my  brain.  I  am  certain  of  the  existence  of  the 
idea,  because  I  immediately  perceive  it." 

In  the  third  })lace,  philosophers  concur  in  acknowledging 
that  mankind  at  large  believe  that  the  external  reality  itself  con- 
stitutes the  immediate  and  only  object  of  perception.  So  also 
Keid :  "  On  the  same  principle,  the  unlearned  man  says,  I  per- 
ceive the  external  object,  and  I  perceive  it  to  exist."  —  "  The 
vulgar,  undoubtedly,  believe  that  it  is  the  external  object  which 
we  immediately  perceive,  and  not  a  representative  image  of  it 
only.     It  is  for  this  reason  that  they  look  upon  it  as  perfect 


310 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL   REALIST? 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL    REALIST? 


311 


lunacy  to  call  in  question  the  existence  of  external  objects."  — 
"The  vulgar  are  firmly  persuaded  that  the  very  identical 
objects  whicli  they  perceive,  continue  to  exist  when  they  do  not 
perceive  them :  and  are  no  less  firmly  persuaded,  that  when  ten 
men  look  at  the  sun  or  the  moon  they  all  see  the  same  indi- 
vidual object."  Speaking  of  Berkeley,  — ''  The  vulgar  opinion 
he  reduces  to  this,  that  the  very  things  which  we  perceive  by 
our  senses  do  really  exist.  This  he  grants."  —  "  It  is,  there- 
fore, acknowledged  by  this  philosopher  to  be  a  natural  instinct 
or  prepossession,  a  universal  and  primary  opinion  of  all  men, 
that  the  objects  which  we  immediately  i)erceive  by  our  senses 
are  not  images  in  our  minds,  but  external  objects,  and  that  their 
existence  is  independent  of  us  and  our  perception." 

In  \he  fourth  place,  all  philosophers  agree  that  consciousness 
has  an  immediate  hiowledge,  and  affords  an  ahsohite  certainty 
of  the  reality,  of  its  object.  Reid,  as  we  have  seen,  limits  the 
name  of  consciousness  to  self-consciousness,  that  is,  to  the  im- 
mediate knowledge  we  possess  of  the  modifications  of  self; 
whereas,  he  makes  perception  the  faculty  by  which  we  are 
immediately  cognizant  of  the  qualities  of  the  not-self. 

In  these  circumstances,  if  Held  either,  1°,  Maintain,  that  his 
immediate  perception  of  external  things  is  convertible  with 
their  reality ;  or,  2°,  Assert,  that,  in  his  doctrine  of  perception, 
the  external  reality  stands  to  the  percipient  mind  face  to  face, 
in  the  same  immediacy  of  relation  which  the  idea  holds  in  the 
representative  theory  of  the  philosophers ;  or,  3°,  Declare  the 
identity  of  his  own  opinion  with  the  vulgar  belief,  as  thus  ex- 
pounded by  himself  and  the  philosophers ;  or,  4°,  Declare,  that 
his  Perception  affords  us  equal  evidence  of  the  existence  of 
external  phajnomena,  as  his  Consciousness  affords  us  of  the 
existence  of  internal ;  —  in  all  and  each  of  these  suppositions, 
he  would  unambiguously  declare  himself  a  Natural  Realist,  and 
evince  that  his  doctrine  of  perception  is  one  not  of  a  mediate 
or  representative,  but  of  an  immediate  or  intuitive  knowledge. 
And  he  does  all  four. 

The  Jirst  and  second.  —  "  We   have    before    examined  the 
reasons  given  by  philosophers  to  prove  that  ideas,  and  not  ex- 


ternal objects,  are  the  immediate  objects  of  perception.  We 
shall  only  here  observe,  that  if  external  objects  be  perceived 
imnu'diately "  [and  he  had  just  before  asserted  for  the  hun- 
dredth time  that  they  were  so  perceived],  "  we  have  the  same 
reason  to  believe  their  existence,  as  philosojdiers  have  to  beheve 
the  existence  of  ideas,  while  they  hold  them  to  be  the  imme- 
diate objects  of  perception." 

The  third.  —  Speaking  of  the  perception  of  the  external 
world,  — "  We  have  here  a  remarkable  confiict  between  two 
contradictory  opinions,  wherein  all  mankind  are  engaged.  On 
the  one  side,  stand  all  the  vulgar,  who  are  unpractised  in  phil- 
osophical researches,  and  guided  by  the  uncorrupted  primary 
instincts  of  nature.  On  the  other  side,  stand  all  the  philoso- 
phers, ancient  and  modern ;  every  man,  without  exception,  who 
reflects.  In  this  division,  to  my  great  humiliation,  I  find  my- 
self classed  with  the  vulgar." 

The  fourth.  —  "Philosophers  sometimes  say  that  we  perceive 
ideas,  —  sometimes  that  we  are  conscious  of  them.  I  can  have 
no  doubt  of  the  existence  of  any  thing  which  I  either  perceive, 
or  of  which  I  am  conscious  ;  but  I  cannot  find  that  I  either  per- 
ceive ideas  or  am  conscious  of  them." 

General  conclusion  and  caution.  —  On  these  grounds,  there- 
fore, I  am  confident  that  Reid's  doctrine  of  Perception  must  be 
pronounced  a  doctrine  of  Intuition,  and  not  of  Representation ; 
and  though,  as  I  have  shown  you,  there  are  certainly  some 
plausible  arguments  which  might  be  alleged  in  support  of  the 
opposite  conclusion;  still,  these  are  greatly  ovcibalanced  by 
stronger  positive  proofs,  and  by  the  general  analogy  of  his  phi- 
losophy. And  here  I  w^ould  impress  upon  you  an  important 
lesson.  That  Reid,  a  distinguished  philosopher,  and  even  the 
founder  of  an  illustrious  school,  could  be  so  greatly  miscon- 
ceived, as  that  an  eminent  disciple  of  that  school  itself  should 
actually  reverse  the  fundamental  principle  of  his  doctrine, — 
this  may  excite  your  wonder,  but  it  ought  not  to  move  you  to 
disparage  either  the  talent  of  the  philosopher  misconceived,  or 
of  the  philosopher  misconceiving.  It  ought,  however,  to  prove 
to  you  the  permanent  importance,  not  only  in  speculation,  but 


812 


WAS  REID  A  NATURAL    REALIST? 


in  practice,  of  precise  thinking.  You  ought  never  to  rest  con- 
tent, so  long  as  there  is  aught  vague  or  indefinite  in  your  rea- 
sonings, —  so  long  as  you  have  not  analyzed  every  notion  into 
its  elements,  and  excluded  the  possibility  of  all  lurking  ambigu- 
ity in  your  expressions.  One  great,  perhaps  the  one  greatest 
advantage,  resulting  from  the  cultivation  of  Philosophy,  is  the 
habit  it  induces  of  vigorous  thought ;  that  is,  of  allowing  nothing 
to  pass  without  a  searching  examination,  either  in  your  own 
speculations,  or  in  those  of  others.  We  may  never,  perhaps, 
arrive  at  truth,  but  we  can  always  avoid  self-contradiction. 


CHAPTER    XYIIL 

THE  PRESENT ATIVE  FACULTY.  — THE  DISTINCTION  OF  PER- 
CEPTION PROPER  FROM  SENSATION  PROPER.  —  PRIMARY 
AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


Of  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception  of  external  ob- 
jects, —  which,  as  a  fact  of  consciousness,  ought  to  be  uncon- 
ditionally admitted,  —  Rcid  has  the  merit,  in  these  latter  times, 
of  being  the  first  champion.  I  have  already  noticed  that,  among 
the  Scholastic  philosophers,  there  were  some  who  maintained  the 
same  doctrine,  and  with  far  greater  clearness  and  comprehen- 
sion than  Reid.  These  opinions  are,  however,  even  at  this 
moment,  I  may  say,  wholly  unknown ;  and  it  would  be  ridicu- 
lous to  suppose  that  their  speculations  had  exerted  any  influence, 
direct  or  indirect,  upon  a  thinker  so  imperfectly  acquainted  with 
what  had  been  done  by  previous  philosophers,  as  Reid.  Since 
the  Revival  of  Letters,  I  have  met  with  only  two,  anterior  to 
Reid,  w^hose  doctrine  on  the  present  question  coincided  with  his. 
One  of  these  [John  Sergeant]  may,  indeed,  be  discounted ;  for 
he  has  stated  his  opinions  in  so  paradoxical  a  manner,  that  his 
authority  is  hardly  worthy  of  notice.  The  other,  [Peter  Poiret,] 
wlio  flourished  about  a  century  before  Reid,  has,  on  the  con- 
trary, stated  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive,  and  refuted  the  coun- 
ter hypothesis  of  a  representative,  perception,  with  a  brevity, 
perspicuity,  and  precision  ftir  superior  to  the  Scottish  philoso- 
pher. Both  of  these  authors,  I  may  say,  are  at  present  wholly 
unknown. 

Having  concluded  the  argument  by  which  I  endeavored  to 
satisfy  you  that  Reid's  doctrine  is  Natural  Realism,  I  should 
now  proceed  to  show  that  Natural  Realism  is  a  more  philosoph- 

27  (313) 


314 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


315 


ical  doctrine  than  Hypothetical  Realism.  Before,  however 
taking  up  the  subject,  I  think  it  better  to  dispose  of  certain 
subordinate  matters,  with  which  it  is  proper  to  have  some  pre- 
paratory acquaintance. 

Of  these  the  first  is  the  distinction  of  Perception  Proper  from 
Sensation  Proper. 

Use  of  the  term  Perception  previously  to  Reid.  —  I  have  had 
occasion  to  mention,  that  the  word  Perception  is,  in  the  lanf^uaf^e 
of  philosophers  previous  to  Reid,  used  in  a  very  extensive  si^^- 
nification.  By  Descartes,  Malebranche,  Locke,  Leibnitz,  and 
others,  it  S  employed  in  a  sense  almost  as  unexclusive  as  Con- 
sciousness in  its  widest  signification.  By  Reid,  this  word  was 
limited  to  our  faculty  acquisitive  of  knowledge,  and  to  that 
branch  of  this  faculty  whereby,  through  the  senses,  we  obtain  a 
knowledge  of  the  external  world.  But  his  limitation  did  not 
stop  here.  In  the  act  of  external  perception,  he  distinguished 
two  elements,  to  which  he  gave  the  names  of  Perception  and 
Sensation.  He  ought,  perhaps,  to  have  called  these  perception 
proper  and  sensation  proper,  when  employed  in  his  special 
meaning ;  for,  in  the  language  of  other  philosophers,  sensation 
was  a  term  which  included  his  Perception,  and  perception  a 
term  comprehensive  of  what  he  called  Sensation. 

Reid's  account  of  Perception.  —  There  is  a  great  want  of 
precision  in  Reid's  account  of  Perception  and  Sensation.  Of 
Perception  he  says :  "  If,  therefore,  we  attend  to  that  act  of 
our  mind,  which  we  call  the  perception  of  an  external  object 
of  sense,  we  shall  find  in  it  these  three  thinjrs.  First,  Some 
conception  or  notion  of  the  object  perceived.  Secondhj,  A 
strong  and  irresistible  conviction  and  belief  of  its  present  exist- 
ence ;  and,  Thirdly,  That  this  conviction  and  belief  are  immedi- 
ate, and  not  the  etfect  of  reasoning. 

"  First,  it  is  impossible  to  perceive  an  object  without  having 
some  notion  or  conception  of  what  we  perceive.  We  may  in- 
deed conceive  an  object  which  we  do  not  perceive ;  but  when 
we  perceive  the  object,  we  must  have  some  conception  of  it  at 
the  same  time  ;  and  we  have  commonly  a  more  clear  and  steady 
notion  of  the  object  while  wc  perceive  it,  than  we  have  from 


memory  or  imagination,  when  it  is  not  perceived.  Yet,  even  in 
perception,  the  notion  which  our  senses  give  of  the  object  may 
be  more  or  less  clear,  more  or  less  distinct  in  all  possible  de- 
grees." 

Now  here  you  will  observe  that  the  "  having  a  notion  or  con- 
ception," by  which  he  explains  the  act  of  perception,  might  at 
first  lead  us  to  conclude  that  he  held,  as  Brown  supposes,  the 
doctrine  of  a  representative  perception ;  for  notion  and  concep- 
tion are  generally  used  by  philosophers  for  a  representation  or 
mediate  knowledge  of  a  thing.  But  though  Reid  cannot  escape 
censure  for  ambiguity  and  vagueness,  it  appears,  from  the  anal- 
ogy of  his  writings,  that  by  notion  or  conception  he  meant 
nothing  more  than  knowledge  or  cognition. 

Reid^s  account  of  Sensation.  —  Sensation  he  thus  describes  : 
"Almost  all  our  perceptions  have  corresponding  sensations, 
which  constantly  accompany  them,  and,  on  that  account,  are 
very  apt  to  be  confounded  with  them.  Neither  ought  we  to 
expect  that  the  sensation,  and  its  corresponding  perception, 
should  be  distinguished  in  common  language,  because  the  pur- 
poses of  common  life  do  not  require  it.  Language  is  made  to 
serve  the  purposes  of  ordinary  conversation ;  and  we  have  no 
reason  to  expect  that  it  should  make  distinctions  that  are  not  of 
common  use.  Hence  it  happens  that  a  quality  perceived,  and 
the  sensation  corresponding  to  that  perception,  often  go  under 
the  same  name. 

"This  makes  the  names  of  most  of  our  sensations  ambigu- 
ous, and  this  ambiguity  hath  very  much  perplexed  the  philoso- 
phers. It  will  be  necessary  to  give  some  instances,  to  illustrate 
the  distinction  between  our  sensations  and  the  objects  of  per- 
ception. 

"  When  I  smell  a  rose,  there  is  in  this  operation  both  sensa- 
tion and  perception.  The  agreeable  odor  I  feel,  considered  by 
Itself,  without  relation  to  any  external  object,  is  merely  a  sensa- 
tion. It  aflTects  the  mind  in  a  certain  way ;  and  this  aflfection 
of  the  mind  may  be  conceived,  without  a  thought  of  the  rose 
or  any  other  object.  This  sensation  can  be  nothing  else  than  it 
IS  felt  to  be.     Its  very  essence  consists  in  being  felt ;  and  when 


316 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


PERCEPTION  AND   SENSATION. 


317 


it  is  not  felt,  it  is  not.  There  is  no  difference  between  the 
sensation  and  the  feeling  of  it ;  they  are  one  and  the  same 
thing.  It  is  for  this  reason,  that  we  before  observed,  that  in 
sensation,  there  is  no  object  distinct  from  that  act  of  mind  by 
which  it  is  felt ;  and  this  holds  true  with  regard  to  all  sensations. 

"Let  us  next  attend  to  the  perception  which  we  have  in 
smelling  a  rose.  Perception  has  always  an  external  object; 
and  the  object  of  my  perception,  in  this  case,  is  that  quality  in 
the  rose  wiiich  I  discern  by  the  sense  of  smell.  Observing  that 
the  agreeable  sensation  is  raised  when  the  rose  is  near,  and 
ceases  when  it  is  removed,  I  am  led,  by  my  nature,  to  conclude 
some  quality  to  be  in  the  rose  which  is  the  cause  of  this  sensa- 
tion. Tins  quality  in  the  rose  is  the  object  perceived ;  and  that 
act  of  the  mind,  by  which  I  have  the  conviction  and  belief  of 
this  quality,  is  what  in  this  case  I  call  perception." 

By  perception,  Reid,  therefore,  means  the  objective  knowledge 
we  have  of  an  external  reality,  through  the  senses ;  by  sensa- 
tion, the  subjective  feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain,  with  which  the 
organic  operation  of  sense  is  accompanied.  This  distinction  of 
the  objective  from  the  subjective  element  in  the  act  is  impor- 
tant. Reid  is  not,  however,  the  author  of  this  distinction.  He 
himself  notices  of  Malebranche,  that  "  he  distinguished  more 
accurately  than  any  philosopher  had  done  before,  the  objects 
which  we  perceive  from  the  sensations  in  our  own  minds,  wliicli, 
by  the  laws  of  nature,  always  accompany  the  i)erception  of  the 
object.  As  in  many  things,  so  particularly  in  this,  he  has  great 
merit ;  for  this,  I  apprehend,  is  a  key  that  opens  the  way  to  a 
right  understanding  both  of  our  external  senses,  and  of  other 
powers  of  the  mind."  I  may  notice  that  Malebranche's  distinc- 
tion is  into  Idee,  corresponding  to  Reid's  Perception,  and  Senti- 
ment, corresponding  to  his  Sensation  ;  and  this  distinction  is  as 
precisely  marked  in  Malebranche  as  in  Reid.  Subsequently  to 
Malebranche,  the  distinction  became  even  common ;  and  there 
is  no  reason  for  Mr.  Stewart  being  struck  when  he  found  it  in 
Crousaz  and  Hutcheson. 

The  nature  of  Perception  and  Sensation  ilhistrated.  —  Before 
proceeding  to  state  to  you  the  great  law  which  regulates  the 


mutual  relation  of  these  phaenomena,  —  a  law^  wdiicli  has  been 
wholly  overlooked  by  our  psychologists,  —  it  is  proper  to  say  a 
few  words  illustrative  of  the  nature  of  the  phasnomena  them- 
selves. 

The  opposition  of  Perception  and  Sensation  is  true,  but  it  is 
not  a  statement  adequate  to  the  generality  of  the  contrast.  Per-, 
ception  is  only  a  special  kind  of  Knowledge,  and  Sensation  only 
a  special  kind  of  Feeling  ;  and  Knowledge  and  Feeling,  you  will 
recollect,  are  two  out  of  the  three  great  classes,  into  which  we 
primarily  divided  the  phaenomena  of  mind.  Conation  was  the 
third.  Now,  as  Perception  is  only  a  special  mode  of  Knowl- 
edf'c,  and  Sensation  only  a  special  mode  of  Feeling,  so  the 
contrast  of  Perception  and  Sensation  is  only  the  special  mani- 
festation of  a  contrast,  which  universally  divides  the  generic 
phamomena  themselves.  It  ought,  therefore,  in  the  first  place, 
to  have  been  noticed,  that  the  generic  phaenomena  of  Knowledge 
and  Feeling  are  always  found  coexistent,  and  yet  always  dis- 
tinct; and  the  opposition  of  Perception  and  Sensation  should 
have  been  stated  as  an  obtrusive,  but  still  only  a  particular 
example  of  the  general  law.  But  not  only  is  the  distinction  of 
Perception  and  Sensation  not  generalized,  -—  not  referred  to  its 
category,  by  our  psychologists ;  it  is  not  concisely  and  precisely 
stated.  A  Cognition  is  objective,  that  is,  our  consciousness  is  then 
relative  to  something  different  from  the  present  state  of  the  mind 
itself;  a  Feeling,  on  the  contrary,  is  subjective,  that  is,  our  con- 
sciousness is  exclusively  limited  to  the  pleasure  or  pain  expe- 
rienced by  the  thinking  subject.  Cognition  and  feeling  are 
always  coexistent.  The  purest  act  of  knowledge  is  always 
colored  by  some  feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain ;  for  no  energy  is 
absolutely  indifferent,  and  the  grossest  feeling  exists  only  as  it 
is  known  in  consciousness.  This  being  the  case  of  cognition  and 
feeling  in  general,  the  same  is  true  of  perception  and  sensation 
in  particular.  Perception  proper  is  the  consciousness,  through 
the  senses,  of  the  qualities  of  an  object  known  as  different  from 
self;  Sensation  proper  is  the  consciousness  of  the  subjective 
affection  of  pleasure  or  pain,  which  accompanies  that  act  of 
knowledge.     Perception  is  thus  the  objective  element  in  the 

27*  • 


318 


PERCEPTION  AND   SENSATION. 


complex   state,  —  the   element   of  cognition ;   Sensation  is  the 
subjective  element,  —  the  element  of  feeling.* 

*  [A  word  lis  to  the  various  meanings  of  the  terms  here  prominent 

Perception,  Sensation,  Sense. 

i.  —  Perception  (Pereeptio,  Wahrnehmung)  has  different  significations- 
but  under  all  and  each  of  these,  the  term  has  a  common  ambiguity,  denot- 
ing as  it  may,  either  1°  the  perceiving  Faculty,  or  2°  the  Perceiving  Act 
or  3°  the  Object  perceived.  Of  these,  the  only  ambiguity  of  importance  is 
the  last ;  and  to  relieve  it,  I  would  propose  the  employment,  in  this  rela- 
tion, of  Percept,  leaving  Perception  to  designate  both  the  Faculty  and  its 
Act;  for  these  it  is  rarely  necessar}-  to  distinguish,  as  what  is  appHcablc  to 
the  one  is  usually  applicable  to  the  other. 

But  to  the  significations  of  the  term,  as  applied  to  different  faculties,  acts, 
and  objects ;  of  which  there  are  in  all  four:  — 

1.  Perception,  in  its  primary  philosophical  signification,  as  in  the  mouths 
of  Cicero  and  Quintilian,  is  vaguely  equivalent  to  Comprehension,  Notion, 
or  Cognition  in  general. 

2.  From  this  first  meaning  it  was  easily  deflected  to  a  second,  in  which 
it  corresponds  to  an  apprehension,  a  becoming  aware  of,  in  a  word,  a  consciuus- 
ness.  In  this  meaning,  though  long  thus  previously  employed  in  the 
Schools,  it  was  brought  more  prominently  and  distinctively  forward  in  the 
WTitings  of  Descartes. 

Under  this  second  meaning,  it  is  proper  to  say  a  word  in  regard  to  a 
special  employment  of  the  term.  The  Leibnitzio-Wolfians  distinguish 
three  acts  in  the  process  of  representative  cognition:  —  1°  the  act  of  repre- 
senting a  (mediate)  ol)jcct  to  the  mind  ;  2°  the  representation,  or,  to  speak 
more  pro}>erly,  represent  amen,  itself  as  an  (immediate  or  vicarious)  object 
exhibited  to  the  mind ;  3*^  the  act  by  ivhich  the  7nind  is  conscious,  imracdiatelv 
of  the  representative  object,  and,  through  it,  mediately  of  the  remote  diject 
represented.  They  called  the  ^T:^t  Perception ;  the  last  Apperception;  the 
second  Idea — sensual,  to  wit ;  for  what  they  styled  the  material  Idea  was 
only  an  organic  motion  propagated  to  the  brain,  which,  on  the  doctrine  of 
the  Preestablished  Harmony,  is,  in  sensitive  cognition,  the  arbitrary  con- 
comitant of  the  former,  and,  of  course,  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness 
or  apperception. 

3.  In  its  third  signitieution,  Perception  is  limited  to  the  apprehensions  of 
Sense  alone.  This  limitation  was  fii-st  formally  imposed  upon  the  word  by 
Keid,  for  no  very  cogent  reason  besides  convenience ;  and  thereafter  by 
Kant.  Kant,  again,  was  not  altogether  consistent;  for  he  employs  'Per- 
ception '  in  the  second  meaning,  for  the  consciousness  of  any  mental  presen- 
tation, and  thus  in  a  sense  corresponding  to  the  Apperception  of  the  Leib- 
nitzians;  while  its  vernacular,  synonym,  '  WahrneJimung '  he  defines  in 
conformity  with  the  third,  as  the  consciousness  of  an    empirical  intuition. 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


319 


Perception  and  Sensation  in  their  reciprocal  relation.  —  The 
most  remarkable  defect,  however,  in  the  present  doctrine  upon 
this  point,  is  the  ignorance  of  our  psychologists  in  regard  to  the 
law  by  which  the  phoenoraena  of  Cognition  and  Feeling,  —  of 
Perception  and  Sensation,  are  governed,  in  their  reciprocal  re- 
lation.    This  law  is  simple  and  universal ;  and,  once  enounced, 

Imposed  by  such  authorities,  this  is  now  the  accredited  signification  of  these 
terms,  in  the  recent  philosophies  of  Germany,  Britain,  France,  &c. 

4.  But  under  this  third  meaning,  it  is  again,  since  the  time  and  through 
the  authority  of  Rcid,  frequently  employed  in  a  still  more  restricted  accep- 
tation, namely,  as  Perception  (proper)  in  contrast  to  Sensation  (proper). 
The  import  of  these  terms,  as  used  by  Reid  and  other  philosophers  on  the 
one  hand,  and  by  myself  on  the  other,  is  explained  in  the  text. 

•±^ Sensation  (Sensatio;  Sentiment;  Empfindung)  has  various  significa- 
tions; and  in  all  of  these,  like  Perception,  Conception,  Imagination,  and 
other  analogous  terms  in  the  philosophy  of  mind,  it  is  ambiguously  ap- 
plied;—1°,  for  a  Faculty  — 2°,  for  its  Act  — 3°,  for  its  Object.  Here 
there  is  no  available  term,  like  Percept,  Concept,  etc.,  whereby  to  discrim- 
inate the  last. 

There  are  two  principal  meanings  in  which  this  term  has  been  em- 
ployed. 

1.  Like  the  Greek  cBs/Aes/s,  it  was  long  and  generally  used  to  comprehend 
the  process  of  sensitive  apprehension,  both  in  its  subjective  and  its  ol)jective  rela- 
tions. 

2.  As  opposed  to  Idea,  Perception,  etc.,  it  was  limited,  first  in  the  Carte- 
sian school,  and  thereafter  in  that  of  Reid,  to  the  subjective  phasis  of  our 
sensitive  cognitions ;  that  is,  to  our  co7isciousness  of  the  affections  of  our  ani- 
mated organism, —  or  on  the  Neo-Platonic,  Cartesian,  and  Leibnitzian  hy- 
potheses, to  the  affections  of  the  mind  corresponding  to,  but  not  caused  by,  the 
unknown  mutations  of  the  body.  Under  this  restriction.  Sensation  may,  both 
in  French  and  English,  be  employed  to  designate  our  corporeal  or  lower 
feelings,  in  oppo'sition  to  Sentiment,  as  a  term  for  our  higher,  that  is,  our 
intellectual  and  moral,  feelings. 

\\\.  — Sense  (Sensus;  Sens;  Sinn)  is  employed  in  a  looser  and  in  a 
stricter  application. 

Under  the  former  head,  it  has  two  applications ;  —  1°,  a  psychological,  as 
a  popular  term  for  Intelligence :  2°,  a  logical,  as  a  synonym  for  Meaning. 

Under  the  latter  head,  Sense  is  employed  ambiguously;  —  1°,  for  the 
Faculty  of  sensitive  apprehension ;  2°,  for  its  Act ;  3°,  for  its  Organ. 

In  this  relation,  Sense  has  been  distinguished  into  External  and  Inter- 
nal ;  but  under  the  second  term,  in  so  many  vague  and  various  meanings, 
that  I  cannot  here  either  explain  or  enumerate  them.]  —  Diss.  supp.  to  Reid. 


320 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


321 


its  proof  is  found  in  every  mental  manifestation.  It  is  this: 
^Knoivledge  and  Feeling,  —  Perception  and  Sensation^  though 
always  coexistent,  are  always  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other. 
That  these  two  elements  are  always  found  in  coexistence,  as  it 
is  an  old  and  a  notorious  truth,  it  is  not  requisite  for  me  to 
prove.  But  that  these  elements  are  always  found  to  coexist  in 
an  inverse  proportion,  —  in  support  of  this  universal  fact,  it 
will  he  requisite  to  adduce  proof  and  illustration. 

In  doing  this  I  shall,  however,  confine  myself  to  the  relation 
of  Perception  and  Sensation.  These  afford  the  best  examples 
of  the  generic  relation  of  Knowledge  and  Feeling ;  and  we  must 
not  now  turn  aside  from  the  special  faculty  with  which  we  are 
enfrajired. 

The  first  proof  I  shall  take  from  a  comparison  of  the  several 
senses ;  and  it  will  be  found  that,  precisely  as  a  sense  has  more 
of  the  one  element,  it  has  less  of  the  other.  Laying  Touch  aside 
for  the  moment,  as  this  requires  a  special  explanation,  the  other 
four  Senses  divide  themselves  into  two  classes,  according  as 
Perception,  the  objective  element,  or  Sensation,  the  subjective 
element,  predominates.  The  two  in  which  the  former  element 
prevails,  are  Sight  and  Hearing ;  the  two  in  which  the  latter, 
are  Taste  and  Smell. 

Now,  here,  it  will  be  at  once  admitted,  that  Sight,  at  the  same 
instant,  presents  to  us  a  greater  number  and  a  greater  variety 
of  objects  and  qualities,  tlian  any  other  of  the  senses.  In  tliis 
sense,  therefore.  Perception,  —  the  objective  element,  is  at  its 
maximum.  But  Sensation,  —  the  subjective  element,  is  here  at 
its  minimum  ;  for,  in  the  eye,  we  experience  less  organic  pleas- 
ure or  pain  from  the  impressions  of  its  appropriate  objects 
(colors),  than  we  do  in  any  other  sense. 

Next  to  Sight,  Hearing  affords  us,  in  the  shortest  interval, 
the  greatest  variety  and  multitude  of  cognitions ;  and  as  sight 
divides  space  almost  to  infinity,  through  color,  so  hearing  does 
the  same  to  time,  through  sound.  Hearing  is,  however,  much 
less  extensive  in  its  sphere  of  Knowledge  or  Perception  than 
sight ;  but  in  the  same  proportion  is  its  capacity  of  Feeling  or 
Sensation   more   intensive.     We    have  greater   pleasure  and 


crreater  pain  from  single  sounds  than  from  single  colors ;  and, 
in  like  manner,  concords  and  discords,  in  the  one  sense,  affect 
us  more  agreeably  or  disagreeably,  than  any  modifications  of 
light  in  the  other.* 

In  Taste  and  Smell,  the  degree  of  Sensation,  that  is,  of  pleas- 
ure or  pain,  is  great  in  proportion  as  the  Perception,  that  is,  the 
information  they  afford,  is  small.     In  all  these  senses,  therefore, 

Sight,  Hearing,  Taste,  Smell,  it  will  be  admitted  that  the 

principle  holds  good. 

The  sense  of  Touch,  or  Feeling,  strictly  so  called,  I  have 
reserved,  as  this  requires  a  word  of  comment.  Some  pliiloso- 
pher3  include  under  this  name  all  our  sensitive  perceptions,  not 
obtained  through  some  of  the  four  special  organs  of  sense,  that 
is,  sight,  hearing,  taste,  smell ;  others,  again,  divide  the  sense  into 
several.  To  us,  at  present,  this  difference  is  of  no  interest :  for  it 
is  sufficient  for  us  to  know,  that  in  those  parts  of  the  body  where 
Sensation  predominates.  Perception  is  feeble ;  and  in  those 
where  Perception  is  lively.  Sensation  is  obtuse.  In  the  finger 
points,  tactile  perception  is  at  its  height ;  but  there  is  hardly 
another  part  of  the  body  in  which  sensation  is  not  more  acute. 
Touch,  or  Feeling  strictly  so  called,  if  viewed  as  a  single  sense, 
belongs,  therefore,  to  both  classes, — the  objective  and  subjective. 
But  it  is  more  correct,  as  we  shall  see,  to  regard  it  as  a  plurality 
of  senses,  in  wliich  case  Touch,  properly  so  called,  having  a  prin- 
cipal organ  in  the  finger  points,  will  belong  to  the  first  class,  — 
the  class  of  objective  senses,  —  the  perceptions,  —  that  class  in 
which  Perception  proper  predominates. 

This  law  governs  also  the  several  impressions  of  the  same  sense. 
—  Tlie  analogy,  then,  which  we  have  thus  seen  to  hold  good  in 
the  several  senses  in  relation  to  each  other,  prevails  likewise 
among  the  several  impressions  of  the  same  sense.     Impressions 

*  [In  regard  to  the  subjective  and  objective  nature  of  the  sensations  of 
tho  several  senses,  or  rather  tlie  perceptions  we  have  through  them,  it  may 
be  observed,  that  what  is  more  objective  is  more  easily  remembered; 
whereas,  what  is  more  subjective  affords  a  much  less  distinct  remembrance. 
Tims,  what  we  perceive  by  the  eye  is  better  remembered  than  what  we 
hear.] 


322 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


in  the  same  sense,  differ  both  in  degree  and  in  quality  or  kind. 
By  impression  you  will  observe  that  I  mean  no  explanation  of 
the  mode  by  which  the  external  reality  acts  upon  the  sense  (the 
metaphor  you  must  disregard),  but  simply  the  fact  of  the  agency 
itself.  ■  Taking,  then,  their  difference  in  degree,  and  supposirify 
that  the  degree  of  the  impression  determines  the  degree  of 
the  sensation,  it  cannot  certainly  be  said,  that  the  minimum  of 
Sensation  infers  the  maximum  of  Perception;  for  Perception 
always  supposes  a  certain  quantum  of  Sensation :  but  this  is  un- 
deniable, that,  above  a  certain  limit,  Perception  declines,  m  pro> 
portion  as  Sensation  rises.     Thus,  in  the  sense  of  sight,  if  the 
impression  be  strong  we  are  dazzled,  blinded,  and  consciousness 
is  limited  to  the  pain  or  pleasure  of  the  Sensation,  in  the  inten- 
sity of  which.  Perception  has  been  lost. 

Take  now  the  difference^  in  kind,  of  impressions  in  the  same 
sense.  Of  the  senses,  take  again  that  of  Sight.  Sight,  as  will 
hereafter  be  shown,  is  cognizant  of  color,  and,  through  color,  of 
figure.  But  though  figure  is  known  only  thi'ough  color,  a  very 
imperfect  cognizance  of  color  is  necessary,  as  is  shown  in  the 
case  (and  it  is  not  a  rare  one)  of  those  individuals  who  have 
not  the  faculty  of  discriminating  colors.  These  persons,  who 
probably  perceive  only  a  certain  difference  of  light  and  shade, 
have  as  clear  and  distinct  a  cognizance  of  figure,  as  others  who 
enjoy  the  sense  of  sight  in  absolute  perfection.  This  being  un- 
derstood, you  will  observe,  that,  in  the  vision  of  color,  there  is 
more  of  Sensation  ;  in  that  of  figure,  more  of  Perception.  Color 
affords  our  faculties  of  knowledge  a  far  smaller  number  of  dif- 
ferences and  relations  than  figure ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  yields 
our  capacity  of  feeling  a  far  more  sensual  enjoyment.  But  if 
the  pleasure  we  derive  from  color  be  more  gross  and  vivid,  that 
from  figure  is  more  refined  and  permanent.  It  is  a  law  of  our 
nature,  that  the  more  intense  a  pleasure,  the  shorter  is  its  dura- 
tion. The  pleasures  of  sense  are  grosser  and  more  intense  than 
those  of  intellect ;  but,  while  the  former  alternate  speedily  with 
disgust,  with  the  latter  we  are  never  satiated.  The  same  ana- 
logy holds  among  the  senses  themselves.  Those  in  which  Sen- 
sation predominates,  in  which  pleasure  is  most  intense,  soon 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


323 


pall  upon  us ;  whereas  those  in  which  Perception  predominates, 
and  which  hold  more  immediately  of  intelligence,  afford  us  a 
less  exclusive  but  a  more  enduring  gratification.  How  soon  are 
we  cloyed  with  the  pleasures  of  the  palate,  compared  with  those 
of  the  eye  ;  and,  among  the  objects  of  the  former,  the  meats 
that  please  the  most  are  soonest  objects  of  disgust.  This  is  too 
notorious  in  regard  to  taste  to  stand  in  need  of  proof.  But  it  is 
no  less  certain  in  the  case  of  vision.  In  painting,  there  is  a 
pleasure  derived  from  a  vivid  and  harmonious  coloring,  and  a 
pleasure  from  the  drawing  and  grouping  of  the  figures.  The 
two  pleasures  are  distinct,  and  even,  to  a  certain  extent,  incom- 
patible. For  if  we  attempt  to  combine  them,  the  grosser  and 
more  obstrusive  gratification,  which  we  find  in  the  coloring,  dis- 
tracts us  from  the  more  refined  and  intellectual  enjoyment  we 
derived  from  the  relation  of  figure  ;  wjille,  at  tlie  same  time,  the 
disgust  we  soon  experience  from  the  one  tends  to  render  us  in- 
sensible to  the  other.  This  is  finely  ex[)ressed  by  a  modern 
Latin  poet  of  high  genius  [Johannes  Secundus]  :  — 

"  Mensura  rebus  est  sua  dulcibus  ; 
Ut  quodque  mcntes  suavius  afficit, 
Fastidium  sic  tristc  secum 
Limite  proximiore  ducit." 

His  learned  commentator,  Bosscha,  has  not,  however,  noticed 
that  these  are  only  paraphrases  of  a  remarkable  passage  of 
Cicero.  Cicero  and  Secundus  have  not,  however,  expressed 
the  principle  more  explicitly  than  Shakspeare  : 

"These  violent  delights  have  violent  ends, 
And  in  their  triumph  die.     The  sweetest  honey 
.     Is  loathsome  in  its  own  deliciousness, 
And  in  the  taste  confounds  the  appetite. 
Therefore,  love  moderately  ;  long  love  doth  so. 
Too  swift  arrives  as  tardy  as  too  slow." 

The  result  of  what  I  have  now  stated,  therefore,  is,  in  the 
first  place,  that,  as  philosophers  have  observed,  there  is  a  dis- 
tinction between  Knowledge  and  Feeling,  —  Perception  and 
Sensation,  as  between  the  objective  and  the  subjective  element ; 


324 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


PERCEPTION  AND  SENSATION. 


325 


and,  in  the  second,  that  this  distinction  is,  moreover,  governed 
by  the  law,  — That  the  two  elements,  though  each  necessarily 
supposes  the  other,  are  still  always  in  a  certain  inverse  proper- 
tion  to  each  other. 

Why  this  distinction  is  important,  —  Before  leaving  this  sub- 
ject, I  may  notice  that  the  distinction  of  Perception  proper  and 
Sensation  proper,  though  recognized  as  phienomenal  by  philoso- 
phers who  hold  the  doctrine  of  a  representative  perception,  rises 
into  reality  and  importance  only  in  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive 
perception.  In  the  former  doctrine,  Perception  is  supposed  to 
be  only  apparently  objective  ;  being,  in  reality,  no  less  suhjec- 
tive  than  Sensation  proper,  —  the  subjective  element  itself. 
Both  are  nothing  more  thq^n  mere  modes  of  the  ego.  The 
philosophers  who  hold  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative  per- 
ception, make  the  difference  of  the  two  to  consist  only  in  this ; 

—  that  in  Perception  proper,  there  is  reference  to  an  unkno\ni 
object,  different  from  me  ;  in  Sensation,  there  is  no  reference  to 
aught  beyond  myself.  Brown,  on  the  supposition  that  Reid 
held  that  doctrine  in  common  with  himself  and  phiIosoi)liers  at 
large,  states  Sensation,  as  understood  by  Reid,  to  be  "  the  simple 
feeling  that  immediately  follows  the  action  of  an  external  body 
on  any  of  our  organs  of  sense,  considered  merely  as  a  feeling 
of  the  mind ;  the  corresponding  Perception  being  the  reference 
of  this  feehng  to  the  external  body  as  its  cause."  The  distinc- 
tion he  allows  to  be  a  convenient  one,  if  the  nature  of  the  com- 
plex process  which  it  expresses  be  rightly  understood.  "The 
only  question,"  he  says,  "  that  seems,  philosophically,  of  impor- 
tance, witli  respect  to  it,  is  whether  the  Perception  in  this  sense, 

—  the  reference  of  the  Sensation  to  its  external  corporeal  cause, 

—  implies,  as  Dr.  Reid  contends,  a  peculiar  mental  power,  co- 
extensive with  Sensation,  to  be  distinguished  by  a  peculiar  name 
in  the  catalogue  of  our  faculties ;  or  be  not  merely  one  of  the 
results  of  a  more  general  power,  which  is  afterwards  to  be  con- 
sidered by  us,  — the  power  of  Association,  —  by  which  one  feel- 
ing suggests,  or  induces,  other  feelings  that  have  formerly 
coexisted  with  it." 

If  Brown  be  correct  in  his  interpretation  of  Reid's  general 


doctrine  of  perception,  his  criticism  is  not  only  true  but  trite. 
Li  the  hands  of  a  Cosmollietic  Idealist,  the  distinction  is  only 
superficial,  and  manifestly  of  no  import ;  and  the  very  fact,  that 
Reid  laid  so  great  stress  on  it,  would  tend  to  prove,  independ- 
ently of  what  we  have  already  alleged,  that  Brown's  interpre- 
tation of  his  doctrine  is  erroneous.     You  will  remark,  likewise, 
that  Brown  (and  Brown  only  speaks  the  language  of  all  phi- 
losophers who  do  not  allow  the  mind  a  consciousness  of  aught 
beyond  its  own  states)  misstates  the  phenomenon,  when  he  as- 
serts that,  in  perception,  there  is  a  reference  from  the  internal 
to  the  external,  from  the  known  to  the  unknown.     That  this  is 
not  the  fact,  an  observation  of  this  phenomenon  will  at  once 
convince  you.     In  an  act   of  perception,  I  am  conscious  of 
something  as  self,  and  of  something  as  not-self: —this  is  the 
simple  fact.     The  philosophers,  on  the  contrary,  who  will  not 
accept  this  fact,  misstate  it.     They  say  that  we  are  there  con- 
scious of  nothing  but  a  certain  modification  of  mind ;  but  tliis 
modification  involves  a  reference  to,  —  in  other  words,  a  repre- 
sentation of,  —  something  external,  as  its  object.     Now  this  is 
untrue.     We  are  conscious  of  no  reference,  —  of  no  represen- 
tation ;  we  believe  that  the  object  of  which  we  are  conscious  is 
the  object  which  exists.     Nor  could   there  possibly  be  such 
reference   or   representation ;    for  reference  or  representation 
supposes  a  knowledge  already  possessed  of  the  object  referred 
to  or  represented ;  but  perception  is  the  faculty  by  which  our 
first  knowledge  is  acquired,  and,  therefore,  cannot  suppose  a 
previous  knowledge  as  its  condition.     But  this  I  notice  only  by 
the  way ;  this  matter  will  be  regularly  considered  in  the  sequel. 
Perception  a  primary^  not  a  compound  and  derivative  faculty. 
—  I  may  here  notice  the  false  analysis,  which  has  endeavored 
to  take  perception  out  of  the  list  of  our  faculties,  as  being  only 
a  compound  and  derivative  power.     Perception,  say  Brown  and 
others,  supposes  memoiy  and  comparison  and  judgment ;  there- 
fore, it  is  not  a  primary  faculty  of  mind.     Nothing  can  be  more 
erroneous  than  this  reasoning.     In  the  first  place,  I  have  for- 
merly shown  you  that   consciousness   supposes   memory,  and 
discrimination,  and  judgment ;  and,  as  perception  does  not  pre- 

28 


H 


i  I 


ill 


^ 


32G 


PRIMARY  .\ND   SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


tend  to  be  ..mpler  tl.an  con.cionsne.s,  but  in  fact  only  a  modifi 
ca,.on  of  consciousness,  that,  therefore,  the  objection  does  Z 
apply.     But,  m  the  second  place,  the  objection  is  founded  on  . 
misapprehension  of  what  a  faculty  properly  is.     It  ,„ay  ,,e  ve,; 
tn.e,  that  an  act  of  perception  cannot  be  realized  simply  ,„J 
alone.     I  have  often  told  you  that  the  mental  pha^noJon'" 
never  snnple,  and  that,  as  tissues  are  woven  out  of  many  threl 
so  a  mental  pluvnomenon  is  made  up  of  many  acts  Li  Jl 
tions,  which  we  can  only  consider  separately  by  abstraction,  but 
can  never  even  conceive  as  separately  existing.     I„  mathe;.,,- 
ics,  .e  consider  a  triangle  or  a  square,  the  sides  and  the  angles 
apart  from  each  other,  though  we  are  unable  to  conceive  tkin 
existing  independently  of  each  other.     But  because  the  ano-\e- 
and  sides  exist  only  through  each  other,  would  it  be  con-ee°  to 
deny  their  reality  as  distinct  mathematical  elements.?     As  in 
geometry  so  is  it  in  psycliology.     AVe  admit  that  no  faculty  can 
exist  itselt  alone;  and  that  it  is  only  by  viewing  tlie  actual 
mamfestations  of  mmd  in  their  different  relations,  that  we  are 
able  by  abstraction  to  analyze  them  into  elements,  which  we 
refer  to  different  faculties.     Thus,  for  example,  every  judgment, 
every  comparison,  supposes  two  terms  to  be  compared,  and 
therefore,  supposes  an  act  of  representative,  or  an  act  of  aequis- 
Uive,  cognition.     But  go  back  to  one  or  other  of  these  acts,  and 
you  will  hud  that  eacli  of  them  supposes  a  judgment  and  a 
memory.     If  I  represent  in  imagination  the  terms  of  compari- 
son,  there  is  involved  a  judgment ;  for  the  fact  of  their  repre- 
sentation supposes  the  affirmation  or  judgment  that  they  are 
caled  up   that  they  now  ideally  exist;  and  this  judgment  is 
only  possible,  a,  a  result  of  a  comparison  of  the  present  con- 
sciousness of  their  existence  with  a  past  consciousness  of  their 
non-existence,  which  comparison,  again,  is  only  possible  tlirougli 
an  act,  of  memory.  " 

ne  Primary  and  Secondary  Qualities  of  matter. -Coa- 
nected  with  the  preceding  distinction  of  Perception  and  Sensa- 
tion, IS  the  distinction  of  the  Primary  and  Secondar;^  Qualities 
of  matter. 

It  would  only  confuse  you  were  I  to  attempt  to  determine 


PRI5LVRY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES.  327 

how  far  this  distinction  was  known  to  the  Atomic  physiologists 
'rior  to  Ai-istotle,  and  how  far  Aiistotle  himself  was  aware  of 
L  prmciple  on  which  it  proceeds. -It  is  enough  to  notice,  as 
he  most  remarkable  opinion  of  antiquity,  that  of  Democritus, 
who  except  the  common  qualities  of  body  which  are  known  by 
Touch,"  denied  that  the  senses  afforded  us  any  information  con- 
cerning the  real  properties  of  matter.  Among  modern  philoso- 
phers, Descartes  was  the  first  who  recalled  attention  to  the  dis- 
inetion.  According  to  him,  the  Primary  qualities  differ  from 
the  Secondary  in  this, -that  our  knowledge  of  the  former  is 
more  clear  and  distinct  than  of  the  latter. 

"The  qualities  of  external  objects,"  says  Locke,  "are  of  two 
sorts;  first,  Original  or  Primary;  such  are  solidity,  extension, 
motion  or  rest,  number,  and  figure.  These  are  inseparable  from 
body,  and  such  as  it  constantly  keeps  in  all  its  changes  and 
alterations.  Thus,  take  a  grain  of  wheat,  divide  it  into  two 
parts ;  each  part  has  still  soUdity,  extension,  figure,  mobility ; 
divide  it  again,  and  it  still  retains  the  same  qualities ;  and  wiU 
do  so  still,  though  you  divide  it  on  till  the  parts  become  msen- 

"  ""^Secondly,  Secondary  qualities,  such  as  colors,  smells,  tastes 
sounds,  etc.,  which,  whatever  reality  we  by  mistake  may  attrib- 
ute to  them,  are,  in  truth,  nothing  in  the  objects  themselves,  but 
powers  to  produce  various  sensations  in  us  ;  and  depend  on  the 
qualities  before  mentioned. 

"  The  ideas  of  Primary  qualities  of  bodies  are  resemblances 
of  them;  and  their  patterns  reaUy  exist  in  bodies  themselves: 
but  the  ideas  produced  in  us  by  Secondary  qualities  have  no 
resemblance  of  them  at  all:  and  what  is  sweet,  blue,  or  w-ai-m 
in  the  idea,  is  but  the  certain  bulk,  figure,  and  motion  of  the 
insensible  parts  in  the  bodies  themselves,  which  we  call  so. 

Reid  adopted  the  distinction  of  Descartes :  he  holds  that 
our  knowledge  of  the  Primary  qualities  is  clear  and  distinct, 
whereas  our  knowledge  of  the  Secondary  qualities  is  o.  ,~ure. 
"Every  man,"  he  says,  "capable  of  reflection,  may  easily  sat- 
isfy himself,  that  he  has  a  j»rfectly  clear  and  distinct  notion  ot 
extension,  divu'Vdity,  figure,  and  motion.     The  solidity  of  a 


S2G  PRIMARY  AND   SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 

tend  to  be  simpler  tlian  consciousness,  but  in  fact  only  a  moditi 
cation  of  consciousness,  that,  thcretbi-e,  the  objection  docs  not 
ai-ply.     But,  in  the  second  place,  the  objection  is  founded  on  -, 
misapprehension  of  what  a  faculty  properly  is.     It  may  be  very 
true,  that  an  act  of  perception  cannot  be  realized  sim,,ly  .u,il 
alone.     I  have  often  told  you  that  the  mental  plu«„ome„a  arc 
never  simple,  and  that,  as  tissues  arc  woven  out  of  many  thread, 
so  a  mental  pha^nonienon  is  made  up  of  many  acts  and  affec- 
tions, which  we  can  only  consider  separately  by  abstraction  but 
can  never  even  conceive  as  separately  existing.     In  mathclnat- 
ics,  we  consider  a  triangle  or  a  square,  the  sides  and  the  angles 
apart  from  each  other,  though  we  are  unable  to  conceive  tl^m 
existing  independently  of  each  other.     But  because  the  an<.'.t" 
and  sides  exist  only  through  each  other,  would  it  he  correc't  to 
deny  their  reality  as  distinct  mathematical  elements'     As  in 
geometry,  so  is  it  in  psychology.     We  admit  that  no  faculty  can 
exist  Itself  alone ;  and  that  it  is  only  by  viewing  the  actual 
manifestations  of  mind  in  their  different  relations,  that  we  are 
able  by  abstraction  to  analyze  them  into  elements,  which  we 
refer  to  different  faculties.     Thus,  for  example,  every  jud<^ment, 
every  comparison,  supposes  two  terms  to  be  compared,  and, 
therefore,  supposes  an  act  of  representative,  or  an  act  of  acquis- 
itive, cognition.     But  go  back  to  one  or  other  of  these  acts,  and 
you   will  find  that  each  of  them  supposes  a  judgment  and  a 
memory.     If  I  represent  in  imagination  the  terms  of  compari- 
son, there  is  involved  a  judgment ;  for  the  fact  of  their  repre- 
sentation supposes  the  aifirnia.ion  or  judgment  that  they  are 
ea  led  up,  that  they  now  ideally  exist ;  and  this  judgment  is 
only  possible,  as  a  result  of  a  comparison  of  the  present  con- 
sciousness of  their  existence  with  a  past  consciousness  of  their 
non-existence,  which  comparison,  again,  is  only  possible  throu-h 
an  act  of  memory. 

Ue  Primary  and  Secondary  Qualities  of  matter.  — Con- 
nected  with  the  preceding  distinction  of  Perception  and  Sensa- 
tion, IS  the  distinction  of  the  Primary  and  Secondaiy  Quahties 
of  matter.  ^ 

It  would  only  confuse  you  were  I  to  attempt  to  determine 


PKIIURY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


327 


how  far  this  distinction  was  known  to  the  Atomic  physiologists 
„Hor  to  Aristotle,  and  how  far  Aiistotle  himself  was  aware  of 
L  principle  on  which  it  proceeds. -It  is  enough  to  notice  as 
I  most  remarkable  opinion  of  antiquity,  that  of  Democritus, 
lo  except  the  common  qualities  of  body  which  are  known  by 
Touch' denied  that  the  senses  afforded  us  any  information  con- 
cerning the  real  properties  of  matter.  Among  modern  ph.loso- 
nhers,  Descartes  was  the  first  who  recalled  attention  to  the  dis- 
dncti^n.  According  to  him,  the  Primary  qualities  differ  trom 
the  Secondary  in  this, -that  our  knowledge  of  the  former  is 
more  clear  and  distinct  than  of  the  latter. 

"The  qualities  of  external  objects,"  says  Locke,  "are  of  two 
sorts;  first.  Original  or  Primary;  such  are  solidity,  extension, 
motion  or  rest,  number,  and  figure.  These  are  inseparaWe  from 
body,  and  such  as  it  constantly  keeps  in  all  its  changes  and 
alterations.  Thus,  take  a  grain  of  wheat,  divide  it  mto  two 
parts ;  each  part  has  still  solidity,  extension,  figure,  mobility ; 
divide  it  agam,  and  it  still  retains  the  same  qualities;  and  wiU 
do  so  still,  though  you  divide  it  on  till  the  parts  become  insen- 

»  Secondly,  Secondary  qualities,  such  as  colors,  smells,  taste., 
sounds,  etc.,  which,  whatever  reaUty  we  by  mistake  may  attrib- 
ute to  them,  are,  in  truth,  nothing  in  the  objects  themselves,  but 
powers  to  produce  various  sensations  in  us  ;  and  depend  on  the 
qualities  before  mentioned. 

"  The  ideas  of  Primary  qualities  of  bodies  are  resemblances 
of  them ;  and  their  patterns  really  exist  in  bodies  themselves : 
but  the  ideas  produced  in  us  by  Secondary  qualities  have  no 
resemblance  of  them  at  all:  and  what  is  sweet,  blue,  or  warm 
in  the  idea,  is  but  the  certain  bulk,  figure,  and  motion  of  the 
insensible  parts  in  the  bodies  themselves,  which  we  caU  so. 

Reid  adopted  the  distinction  of  Descartes :  he  holds  tha,t 
our  knowledge  of  the  Primary  qualities  is  clear  and  distinct, 
whereas  our  knowledge  of  the  Secondary  qualities  is  obscure. 
"  Every  man,"  he  says,  "  capable  of  reflection,  may  easily  sat- 
isfy himself,  that  he  has  a  i»rfcctly  clear  and  distinct  notion  of 
extension,  divisibility,  figure,  and  motion.     The  sohdity  of  a 


328 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


body  means  no  more,  but  that  it  excliules  other  bodies  from  oc- 
cupying the  same  place  at  the  same  time.     Hardness,  softness, 
and  fluidity  are  different  degrees  of  cohesion  in  the  parts  of  a 
body.     It  is  fluid,  when  it  has  no  sensible  cohesion  ;  soft,  when 
the  cohesion  is  weak ;  and  hard,  when  it  is  strong :  of  the  cause 
of  this  cohesion  we  are  ignorant,  but  the  thing  itself  we  under- 
stand perfectly,  being  immediately  informed  of  it  by  the  sense 
of  touch.     It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  of  the  Primar}^  qualities 
we  have  a  clear  and  distinct  notion ;  we  know  what  they  are, 
though  we  may  be  ignorant  of  the  causes."     But  he  did  more  ; 
he  endeavored  to  show  that  this  ditterence  arises  from  the  cir- 
cumstance, that  the  perception,   in  the  case  of  the   Primary 
qualities,  is  direct ;  in  the  case  of  the  Secondary,  only  relative. 
This  he  explains :  "  I  observe,  further,  that  the  notion  we  have 
of  Primary  qualities  is  direct,  and  not  relative  only.     A  rela- 
tive notion  of  a  thing  is,  strictly  speaking,  no  notion  of  the  thing 
at  all,  but  only  of  some  relation  which  it  bears  to  something 

else. 

"Thus,  gravity  sometimes  signifies  the  tendency  of  bodies 
towards  the  earth ;  sometimes,  it  signifies  the  cause  of  that  ten- 
dency ;  when   it  means  the  fii-st,  I  have  a  direct  and  distinct 
notion  of  gravity  ;  I  see  it,  and  feel  it,  and  know  perfectly  what 
it  is ;  but  this  tendency  must  have  a  cause ;  we  give  the  same 
name  to  the  cause;    and  that  cause  has  been  an  object  of 
thought  and  of  speculation.     Now,  what  notion  have  we  of  this 
cause,  when  we  tliink  and  reason  about  it  ?     It  is  evident  we 
think  of  it  as  an  unknown  cause  of  a  known  effect.     This  is  a 
relative  notion,  and  it  must  be  obscure,  because  it  gives  us  no 
conception  of  what  the  thing  is,  but  of  what  relation  it  bears  to 
something  else.     Every  relation  which  a  thing  unknown  bears 
to  something  that  is  known,  may  give  a  relative  notion  of  it ;  and 
there  are  many  objects  of  thought,  and  of  discourse,  of  wliich 
our  faculties  can  give  no  better  than  a  relative  notion. 

"  llavin«-  premised  these  things  to  explain  what  is  meant  by 
a  relative  notion,  it  is  evident,  that  our  notion  of  Primary 
Qualities  is  not  of  this  kind ;  we  l^ow  what  they  are,  and  not 
barely  what  relation  they  bear  to  something  else. 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY   QUALITIES. 


329 


«It  is  otherwise  with  Secondary  Qualities.     If  you  ask  me, 
what  is  that  quality  or  modification  in  a  rose  which  I  call  its 
smell,  I  am  at  a  loss  what  to  answer  directly.     Upon  reflection, 
I  find  that  I  have  a  distinct  notion  of  the  sensation  which  it 
produces  in  my  mind.     But  there  can  be  nothing  hke  to  this 
sen-^ation  in  the  rose,  because  it  is  insentient.     The  quality  m 
the  rose  is  something  which  occasions  the  sensation  m  me  ;  but 
what  that  something  is,  I  know  not.     My  senses  give  me  no 
information  upon  this  point.     The  only  notion,  therefore,  my 
senses  give  is  this,  that  smell  in  the  rose  is  an  unknown  quality 
or  modif  cation,  which  is  the  cause  or  occasion  of  a  sensation 
which  I  knoiv  well.     The  relation  which  this  unknown  quality 
bears  to  the  sensation. with  which  nature  hath  connected  it,  is 
all  I  learn  from  the  sense  of  smelling  ;  but  this  is  evidently  a 
relative  notion.     The  same  reasonmg  will-  apply  to  every  Sec- 
ondary quality." 

[The  Primary  Qualities  of  Matter  or  Body,  now  and  here,  — 
that  is,  in  proximate  relation  to  our  organs,  —  are  objects  of 
immediate  cognition  to  the  Natural  Realists,  of  mediate,  to  the 
Co^mothetic  Idealists ;  the  former,  on  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness, asserting  to  mind  the  capability  of  intuitively  per- 
ceiving what  is  not  itself;  the  latter  denying  this  capability,  bat 
assertino-  to  the  mind  the  power  of  representing,  and  truly  rep- 
resenting, what  it  does  not  know. -To  the  Absolute  Ideahsts, 
matter  has  no  existence  a^  an  object  of  cognition,  either  imme- 
diate or  mediate. 

The  Secondary  Qualities  of  Body,  now  and  here,  —  as  only 
present  affections  of  the  conscious  subject,  detemimed  by  an 
unknown  external  cause, -are,  on  every  theory,  now  allowed 
to  be  objects  of  immediate  cognition.]  —  i)m.  supp.  to  Eeid. 

You  will  observe  that  the  lists  of  the  primary  quahties  given 
by  Locke  and  Reid  do  not  coincide.  According  to  Locke, 
these  are  Solidity,  Extension,  Motion,  Hardness,  Softness, 
Roughness,  Smootlmess,  and  Fluidity. 

Slwarfs  classification  of  qualities.  -  Mr.  Stewart  proposes 
another  line  of  demarcation.  "  I  distinguish,"  he  says,  -  Exten- 
sion and  Figure  by  the  title  of  the  Mathematical  Affections  of 

28* 


330 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


matter ;  restrictinjr  the  phrase,  Primary  Qualities,  to  Hanlncss 
and  Softness,  Roughness  and  Smoothness,  and  other  properties 
of  the  same  description.  The  hne  which  I  woidd  draw  between 
Primary  and  Secondary  Qualities  is  this,  that  the  former  neces- 
sarily involve  the  notion  of  Extension,  and  consequently  of 
externality  or  outness  ;  whereas  the  latter  are  only  conceived  a3 
the  unknown  causes  of  known  sensations  ;  and  when  first  apjne- 
hended  by  the  mind,  do  not  imply  the  existence  of  any  thing 
locally  distinct  from  the  subjects  of  its  consciousness." 

The  Primary  Qualities  reducible  to  two.  —  All  these  Primary 
Qualities,  including  Mr.  Stewart's  Mathematical  Affections  of 
matter,  may  easily  be  reduced  to  two,  —  Extension  and  Solid- 
ity. Thus :  Figure  is  a  mere  limitation  of  extension ;  Hard- 
ness, Softness,  Fluidity,  are  only  Solidity  variously  modified,  — 
only  its  different  degrees;  while  Roughness  and  Smoothness 
denote  only  the  sensations  connected  with  certain  perceptions  of 
Solidity.*     On  the  other  hand,  in  regard  to  Divisibility,  (which 

*  [The  temi  S<^idity  [to  arepeov,  solidum),  as  denoting?  an  attribute  of 
body,  is  a  word  of  various  significations;  and  the  non-determination  and 
non-distinction  of  these  have  given  rise  to  manifold  error  and  confusion. 

First  Meaning.— Ill  its  most  unexclusive  signification,  the  Solid  is  that 
which ///5  or  occupies  space.  In  this  meaning,  it  is  simply  convertible  with 
Body;  and  is  opposed,  1°,  to  the  unextended  in  all  or  in  any  of  the  three 
dimensions  of  space ;  and  2°,  to  mere  extension  or  empty  space  itself. 
This  we  may  call  Solidifi/  simply. 

The  occupation  of  space  supposes  two  necessary  conditions  ;  — and  each 
of  these  has  obtained  the  common  name  of  Sohdity,  thus  constituting  a 
second  and  a  third  meaning. 

Second  Meaning.  —  What  is  conceived  as  occupying  space,  is  necessarily 
conceived  as  extended  in  the  three  dimensions  of  space.  This  is  the  phasis  of 
Solidity  which  the  Geometer  exclusively  contemplates.  Trinal  extension 
has,  accordingly,  by  mathematicians,  been  emphatically  called  the  Sohd; 
and  this  first  partial  Solidity  we  may  therefore  distinguish  as  the  Mathe- 
matical, or  rather  the  Geometrical. 

Third  Meaning.  —  On  the  other  hand,  what  is  conceived  as  occupying 
space,  is  necessarily  conceived  as  ivhat  cannot  be  eliminated  from  space.  But 
this  supposes  a  power  of  resisting  such  elimination.  This  is  the  phnsis  of 
Solidity  considered  excUisively  from  the  physical  point  of  view.  Accord- 
ingly, by  the  men  of  natural  science,  the  impossibility  of  compressing  a 
body  from  an  extended  to  an  unextended  has  been  emphatically  styled 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


331 


is  proper  to  Rcid,)  and  to  Motion,  —  these  can  hardly  be  mere 
data   of   sense.      Divisibility    supposes   division,    and   a  body 

Solidity;  and  this  second  partial  solidity  we  may  therefore  distinguish  as 
the  Physical.  The  resistinjL?  force  here  involved  has  been  called  the  Impen- 
drability  of  matter;  but  most  imj)roperly  and  most  ambiguously.  It 
mi'Wit  more  appropriately  be  termed  its  Ultimate  or  Absolute  Incompressi- 

hility. 

In  a  psychological  point  of  view  —  and  this  is  that  of  Locke  and  meta- 
plivsicians  in  general  —  no  attribute  of  body  is  Primary  which  is  not  neces- 
siirv  in  thought ;  that  is,  whicii  is  not  necessarily  evolved  out  of,  as  neces- 
sarilv  implied  in,  the  very  notion  of  body.  And  such  is  Solidity,  in  the  one 
total  and  the  two  partial  significations  heretofore  enumerated.  But  in  its 
Xphjsical  application,  this  term  is  not  always  limited  to  denote  the  ultimate 
incomprcssibility  of  matter.  Besides  that  necessary  attribute,  it  is  extended, 
in  common  language,  to  express  other  powers  of  resistance  in  bodies,  of  a 
character  merely  contingent  in  reference  to  thought.  These  may  be  re- 
duced to  the  five  following  . 

Fourth  Meaning.  —  The  term  Solid  is  very  commonly  employed  to  denote 
not  merely  the  absolutely,  but  also  the  relatively,  incompressible,  the  Dense, 
in  contrast  to  the  relatively  compressible,  the  Hare,  or  Hollow.  (In  Latin, 
moreover,  Solidus  was  not  only  employed,  in  this  sense,  to  denote  that  a 
thing  fully  occupied  the  space  comprehended  ^vithin  its  circumference ;  but 
liicewise  to  indicate,  1°,  its  entirencss  in  quantity — that  it  was  whole  or  com- 
plete; and,  2°,  its  entireness  in  quality  —  that  it  was  pure,  uniform,  homo- 
geneous. This  arose  from  the  original  identity  of  the  Latin  Solidum  with 
the  Oscan  solium  or  solum,  and  the  Greek  oAov. 

Fifth  Meaning.  —  Under  the  Vis  Inertioe,  a  body  is  said  to  be  Solid,  i.  e. 
Inert,  Stable,  Immovable,  in  proportion  as  it,  whether  in  motion  or  at  rest, 
resists,  in  general,  a  removal  from  the  place  it  would  otherwise  occupy  in 
space. 

Sixth  Meaning.  — Under  Gravity,  a  body  is  said  to  be  Solid,  i.  e.  Heavy, 
in  proportion  as  it  resists,  in  particular,  a  displacement  by  being  lifted  up. 

The  two  followiuir  meanini^s  fall  under  Cohesion,  the  force  with  which 
matter  resists  the  distraction  of  its  parts  ;  for  a  body  is  said  in  a 

Seventh  Meaning,  to  be  Solid,  /.  e.  Hard,  in  contrast  to  Soft;  and  in  an 

Eighth  Meaning,  to  be  Solid,  /.  e.  Concrete,  in  opposition  to  Fluid. 

The  term  Solidity  thus  denotes,  besides  the  absolute  and  necessary  prop- 
erty of  occupying  space,  simply  and  in  its  two  phases  of  Extension  and 
Impenetrability,  also  the  relative  and  contingent  qualities  of  the  Dense,  the 
Inert,  the  HeaA'y,  the  Hard,  the  Concrete ;  and  the  introduction  of  these 
latter,  with  their  correlative  opposites,  into  the  list  of  Primary  Qualities 
was  facilitated  by  Locke's  vacillating  employment  of  the  vague  expression 
Solid,  in  partial  designation  of  the  former.] — Diss.  supp.  to  Reid. 


332 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


PRIMARY  AND    SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


333 


divided  supposes  memory ;  for  if  we  did  not  remember  that 
it  had  been  one,  we  sliould  not  know  that  it  is  now  two ;  we 
could  not  compare  its  present  with  its  foraier  state ;  and  it  is 
by  this  comparison  alone  that  we  learn  the  fact  of  division. 
As  to  Motion,  this  supj)oses  the  exercise  of  memory,  and  the 
notion  of  time,  and,  therefore,  we  do  not  owe  it  exclusively  to 
sense.  Finally,  as  to  Number,  which  is  peculiar  to  Locke,  it  is 
evident  that  this,  fjir  from  being  a  quality  of  matter,  is  only  an 
abstract  notion,  —  the  fabrication  of  the  intellect,  and  not  a 
datum  of  sense. 

Space  known  a  priori ;  Extension  a  posteriori.  —  Thus,  then, 
we  have  reduced  all  primary  qualities  to  Extension  and  Solid- 
ity; and  we  are,  moreover,  it  would  seem,  beginning  to  see 
light,  inasmuch  as  the  Primary  qualities  are  those  in  which  per- 
ception is  dominant,  the  Secondary  those  in  which  sensation  pre- 
vails. But  here  we  are  again  thrown  back :  for  extension  is 
only  another  name  for  space,  and  our  notion  of  space  is  not 
one  which  we  derive  exclusively  from  sense,  —  not  one  which 
is  generalized  only  from  experience ;  for  it  is  one  of  our  neces- 
sai*y  notions,  —  in  fact,  a  fundamental  condition  of  thought 
itself.  The  analysis  of  Kant,  independently  of  all  that  has 
been  done  by  other  philosophers,  has  placed  this  truth  beyond 
the  possibility  of  doubt,  to  all  those  who  understand  the  mean- 
ing and  conditions  of  the  problem.  For  us,  however,  this  is 
not  the  time  to  discuss  the  subject.  But,  taking  it  for  gi'anted 
that  the  notion  of  space  is  native  or  a  priori,  and  not  adventi- 
tious or  a  posteriori,  are  we  not  at  once  thrown  back  into 
Idealism  ?  For  if  extension  itself  be  only  a  necessary  mental 
mode,  how  can  we  make  it  a  quality  of  external  objects,  known 
to  us  by  sense ;  or  how  can  we  contrast  the  outer  world,  as  the 
extended,  with  the  inner,  as  the  unextended  world  ?  To  this 
difficulty,  I  see  only  one  possible  answer.  It  is  this  :  —  It  can- 
not be  denied  that  space,  as  a  necessary  notion,  is  native  to  the 
mind;  but  does  it  follow,  that,  because  there  is  an  a  priori 
space,  as  a  form  of  thought,  we  may  not  also  have  an  empirical 
knowledge  of  extension,  as  an  element  of  existence?  The 
former,  indeed,  may  be  only  the  condition  through  which  the 


latter  is  possible.  It  is  true  that,  if  we  did  not  possess  the  gen- 
eral and  necessary  notion  of  space  anterior  to,  or  as  the  condi- 
tion of,  experience,  from  experience  we  should  never  obtain 
more  than  a  generalized  and  contingent  notion  of  space.  But 
there  seems  to  me  no  reason  to  deny,  that  because  we  have  the 
one,  we  may  not  also  have  the  other.  If  this  be  admitted,  the 
Avhole  difficulty  is  solved ;  and  we  may  designate  by  the  name 
of  extension  our  empirical  knowledge  of  space,  and  reserve  the 
term  space  for  space  considered  as  a  form  or  fundamental  law 
of  thought.*  This  matter  will,  however,  come  appropriately 
to  be  considered,  in  treating  of  the  Regulative  Faculty. 

General  residt.  —  The  following  is  the  result  of  what  I  think 
an  accurate  analysis  would  afford,  though  there  are  no  doubt 
many  difficulties  to  be  explained.  —  That  our  knowledge  of  all 
the  qualities  of  matter  is  merely  relative.  But  though  the  quali- 
ties of  matter  are  all  known  only  in  relation  to  our  faculties, 
and  the  total  or  absolute  cognition  in  perception  is  only  matter 
in  a  certain  relation  to  mind,  and  mind  in  a  certain  relation  to 
matter ;  still,  in  different  perceptions,  one  term  of  the  relation 
may  predominate,  or  the  other.  Where  the  objective  element 
predominates,  —  where  matter  is  kno^vn  as  principal  in  its  rela- 
tion to  mind,  and  mind  only  known  as  subordinate  in  its  corre- 
lation to  matter,  —  we  have  Perception  Proper,  rising  superior 
to  Sensation  ;  this  is  seen  in  the  Primary  Qualities.  Where,  on 
the  contrary,  the  subjective  element  predominates,  —  where  mind 
is  known  as  principal  in  its  relation  to  matter,  and  matter  is  only 
known  as  subordinate  in  its  relation  to  mind,  —  we  have  Sensa- 
tion Proper  rising  superior  to  Perception ;  and  this  is  seen  in 
the  Secondary  Qualities. 

The  adequate  illustration  of  this  will,  however,  require  both 
a  longer,  and  a  more  abstruse,  discussion,  [which  is  here  sub- 
joined from  the  Dissertations  supplementary  to  Reid.~\ 

[The  Qualities  of  Body  I  divide  into  three  classes. 

Adopting  and  adapting,  as  far  as  possible,  the  previous  no- 

*  [So  Causality.  Causality  depends,  first,  on  the  a  priori  necessity  in  the 
mind  to  think  some  cause ;  and,  second,  on  experience,  as  revealing  to  us 
the  particular  cause  of  any  effect.] 


i 


i 


332 


PRBIARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


divided  supposes  memory ;  for  if  we  did  not  remember  that 
it  had  been  one,  we  should  not  know  tliat  it  is  now  two ;  we 
could  not  compare  its  present  with  its  former  state ;  and  it  is 
by  this  comparison  alone  that  we  learn  the  fact  of  division. 
As  to  Motion,  this  supposes  the  exercise  of  memory,  and  the 
notion  of  time,  and,  therefore,  we  do  not  owe  it  exclusively  to 
sense.  Finally,  as  to  Number,  which  is  peculiar  to  Locke,  it  is 
evident  that  this,  far  from  being  a  quality  of  matter,  is  only  an 
abstract  notion,  — the  fabrication  of  the  intellect,  and  not  a 
datum  of  sense. 

Space  Imown  a  priori ;  Extension  a  posteriori.  —  Thus,  then, 
we  have  reduced  all  primary  qualities  to  Extension  and  Solid- 
ity; and  we  are,  moreover,  it  would  seem,  beginning  to  see 
light,  inasmuch  as  the  Primary  qualities  are  those  in  which  per- 
ception is  dominant,  the  Secondary  those  in  which  sensation  pre- 
vails.    But  here  we  are  again   thrown  back :  for  extension  is 
only  another  name  for  space,  and  our  notion  of  space  is  not 
one  which  we  derive  exclusively  from  sense,  —  not  one  which 
is  generalized  only  from  experience ;  for  it  is  one  of  our  neces- 
sary notions,  — in   fact,  a   fundamental   condition  of   thought 
itself.     The   analysis  of  Kant,  independently  of   all   that  has 
been  done  by  other  philosophers,  has  placed  this  truth  beyond 
the  possibility  of  doubt,  to  all  those  who  understand  the  mean- 
ing and  conditions  of  the  problem.     For  us,  however,  this  is 
not  the  time  to  discuss  the  subject.     But,  taking  it  for  granted 
that  the  notion  of  space  is  native  or  a  priori,  and  not  adventi- 
tious or  a  posteriori,  are  we  not  at   once  thrown  back  into 
Idealism  ?     For  if  extension  itself  be  only  a  necessary  mental 
mode,  how  can  we  make  it  a  quality  of  external  objects,  known 
to  us  by  sense ;  or  how  can  we  contrast  the  outer  world,  as  the 
extended,  with  the  inner,  as  the  unextended  world  ?     To  this 
dithcult}',  I  see  only  one  possible  answer.     It  is  this  :  —  It  can- 
not be  denied  that  space,  as  a  necessary  notion,  is  native  to  the 
mind;  but  does  it  follow,  that,  bec^ause  there  is  an  a  priori 
space,  as  a  form  of  thought,  we  may  not  also  have  an  empirical 
hiowledge  of  extension,  as    an    element   of   existence?      The 
former,  indeed,  may  be  only  the  condition  through  \l^hich  the 


I 


■') 


PRIMARY  AND    SECONDARY  QUALITIES.  333 

latter  is  possible.     It  is  true  that,  if  we  did  not  possess  thegen- 
eral  and  necessary  notion  of  space  anterior  to,  or  as  the  condi- 
tion of,  experience,  from  experience  we  should  never  obtain 
more  than  a  generalized  and  contingent  notion  of  space.     But 
there  seems  to  me  no  reason  to  deny,  that  because  we  have  the 
one,  we  may  not  also  have  the  other.     If  this  be  admitted,  the 
whole  difficulty  is  solved ;  and  we  may  designate  by  the  name 
of  extemion  our  empirical  knowledge  of  space,  and  reserve  the 
term  space  for  space  considered  as  a  form  or  fundamental  law 
of  thought.*     This  matter  will,  however,  come  appropriately 
to  be  considered,  in  treating  of  the  Regulative  Faculty. 

General  residt.  —  The  following  is  the  result  of  what  I  think 
an  accurate  analysis  would  afford,  thougli  there  ai-e  no  doubt 
many  difficulties  to  be  explained.  -  That  our  hnowkdge  of  all 
the  qualities  of  matter  is  merely  relative.     But  though  the  quaU- 
ties  of  matter  are  all  known  only  in  relation  to  our  faculties, 
and  the  total  or  absolute  cognition  in  perception  is  only  matter 
m  a  certain  relation  to  mind,  and  mind  in  a  certam  relation  to 
matter ;  still,  in  different  perceptions,  one  term  of  the  relation 
may  predominate,  or  the  other.      Where  the  objective  element 
predominates,  — where  matter  is  known  as  principal  in  its  rela- 
tion to  mind,  and  mind  only  known  as  subordinate  in  its  corre- 
lation to  matter,  —  we  have  Perception  Proper,  rising  superior 
to  Sensation  ;  this  is  seen  in  the  Primary  Qualities.     Where,  on 
the  contrary,  the  subjective  element  predominates,  — v^-here  mind 
IS  known  as  principal  in  its  relation  to  matter,  and  matter  is  only 
known  as  subordinate  in  its  relation  to  mind, -we  have  Sensa- 
tion.  Proper  rising  superior  to  Perception ;  and  this  is  seen  in 
the  Secondary  Qualities. 

The  adequate  illustration  of  this  wiU,  however,  require  both 
a  longer,  and  a  more  abstruse,  discussion,  [which  is  here  sub- 
jomed  from  the  Dissertations  supplementary  to  Reid.-] 
[The  Quahties  of  Body  I  divide  into  three  classes. 
Adopting  and  adapting,  as  far  as  possible,  the  previous  no- 

*  [So  Causality.  Causality  depends,  first,  on  the  a  priori  necessity  in  tho 
mmd  to  tlnnk  some  cause;  and,  seeond,  on  experience,  as  revealing  to  us 
the  particular  cause  of  any  effect.] 


334 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


menclature  —  the  first  of  these  I  would  denominate  the  class  of 
Primary,  or  Objective,  Qualities ;  the  second,  the  class  of  aS^- 
cundO'Primary,  or  Sahjectivo- Objective,  Qualities  ;  the  third,  the 
class  of  Secondary,  or  Subjective,  Qualities. 

The  general  point  of  view  from  which  the  Qualities  of  Mat- 
ter are  here  considered  is  not  the  Physical,  but  the  Psychologi- 
cal. But,  under  this,  the  ground  of  principle  on  which  these 
qualities  are  divided  and  designated  is,  again,  two-fold.  There 
are,  in  fact,  within  the  psychological,  two  special  points  of  view ; 
that  of  Sense,  and  that  of  Understanding. 

The  point  of  view  chronologically  prior,  or  first  to  us,  is  that 
of  Sense.  The  principle  of  division  is  here  the  different  cir- 
cumstances under  which  the  qualities  are  originally  and  imme- 
diately apprehended.  On  this  ground,  as  apprehensions  or 
immediate  cognitions  through  Sense,  the  Primary  are  distin- 
guished as  objective,  not  subjective,*  as  percepts  proper,  not 
sensations  proper  ;  the  Secundo-primary,  as  objective  and  sub- 
jective, as  percepts  proper  and  sensations  proper;  the  Secondary, 
as  subjective,  not  objective,  cognitions,  as  sensations  proper,  not 
percepts  proper. 

The  other  point  of  view,  chronologically  posterior,  but  first  in 
nature,  is  that  of  Understanding.  The  principle  of  division  is 
here  the  different  character  under  which  the  qualities,  already 
apprehended,  are  conceived  or  construed  to  the  mind  in  thought. 
On  this  ground,  the  Primary,  being  thought  as  essential  to  the 
notion  of  Body,  are  distinguished  from  the  Secundo-primary  and 
Secondary,  as  accidental ;  while  the  Primary  and  Secundo-pri- 
mary, being  thought  as  manifest  or  conceivable  in  their  own  na- 
ture, are  distinguished  from  the  Secondary,  as  in  their  own 
nature  occult  and  inconceivable.     For  the   notion   of   Matter 


*  All  knowledge,  in  one  respect,  is  subjective ;  for  all  knowledge  is  an 
energy  of  the  Ego.  But  when  I  perceive  a  quality  of  the  Non-ego,  of  the 
object-object,  as  in  immediate  relation  to  my  mind,  I  am  said  to  have  of  it 
an  ol)}ective  knowledge  ;  in  contrast  to  the  subjective  knowledge  I  am  said 
to  have  of  it  when  supposing  it  only  as  the  hypothetical  or  occult  cause  of 
an  affection  of  which  I  am  conscious,  or  thinking  it  only  mediately  through 
a  subject-object  or  representation  in,  and  of,  the  mind. 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


335 


having  been  once  acquired,  by  reference  to  that  notion,  the 
Primary  Qualities  are  recognized  as  its  a  priori  or  necessary 
constituents ;  and  we  clearly  conceive  how  they  must  exist  in 
bodies  in  knowing  what  they  are  objectively  in  themselves ;  the 
Secundo-primary  Qualities,  again,  are  recognized  as  a  posteriori 
or  contingent  modifications  of  the  Primary,  and  we  clearly  con- 
ceive how  they  do  exist  in  bodies  in  knowing  what  they  are 
objectively  in  their  conditions  ;  finally,  the  Secondary  Qualities 
are  recognized  as  a  posteriori  or  contingent  accidents  of  matter, 
but  we  obscurely  surmise  how  they  may  exist  in  bodies  only  as 
knowing  what  they  are  subjectively  in  their  effects. 

It  is  thus  apparent  that  the  Primary  Qualities  may  be  deduced 
a  priori,  the  bare  notion  of  matter  being  given ;  they  being,  in 
fact,  only  evolutions  of  the  conditions  which  that  notion  neces- 
sarily implies:  whereas  the  Secundo-primary  and  Secondary 
must  be  induced  a  posteriori  ;  both  being  attributes  contingently 
superadded  to  the  naked  notion  of  matter.  The  Primary  Qual- 
ities thus  fall  more  under  the  point  of  view  of  Understanding, 
the  Secundo-primary  and  Secondary  more  under  the  point  of 
view  of  Sense. 

Deduction  of  the  Primary  Qualities.  —  Space  or  extension  is 
a  necessary  form  of  thought.  We  cannot  think  it  as  non-exist- 
ent ;  we  cannot  but  think  it  as  existent.  But  we  are  not  so 
necessitated  to  imagine  the  reality  of  aught  occupying  space ;  for 
while  unable  to  conceive  as  null  the  space  in  which  the  material 
universe  exists,  the  material  universe  itself  we  can,  without 
difiiculty,  annihilate  in  thought.  All  that  exists  in,  all  that 
occupies,  space,  becomes,  therefore,  known  to  us  by  experience : 
we  acquire,  we  construct,  its  notion.  The  notion  of  space  is 
thus  native  or  a  priori ;  the  notion  of  what  space  contains,  ad- 
ventitious, or  a  posteriori.  Of  this  latter  class  is  that  of  Body 
or  Matter. 

Now  we  ask,  what  are  the  necessary  or  essential,  in  con- 
trast to  the  contingent  or  accidental,  properties  of  Body,  as  ap- 
prehended and  conceived  by  us  ?  The  answer  to  this  question 
affords  the  class  of  Primary,  as  contradistinguished  from  the 
two  classes  of  Secundo-primary  and  Secondary  Qualities. 


336 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


It  will  be  admitted,  that  we  are  only  able  to  conceive  Body 
as  that  which  (I.)  occupies  space,  and  (II.)  is  contained  in  space. 
But  these  catholic  conditions  of  body,  though  really  simple,  are 
logically  complex.  We  may  view  them  in  different  aspects  or 
relations. 

I.  —  The  property  o{  Jilling  space  (Solidity  in  its  unexclusive 
signification,  Solidity  Simple)  implies  two  correlative  conditions  : 
(A)  the  7iecessity  of  trinal  extension,  in  length,  breadth,  and 
thickness  (Solidity  geometrical) ;  and  (B)  the  corresponding 
impossibility  of  being  reduced  from  xchat  is  to  what  is  not  thus 
extended  (Solidity  Physical,  Impenetrability). 

A.  —  Out  of  the  absolute  attribute  of  Trinal  Extension  may 
be  again  explicated  three  attributes,  under  the  form  of  necessary 
relations :  —  (i.)  Number  or  Divisibility ;  (ii.)  Size,  Bulk,  or 
Magnitude  ;  (iii.)  Shape  or  Figure. 

i.  —  Body  necessarily  exists,  and  is  necessarily  known,  either 
as  one  body  or  as  many  bodies.  Number,  i.  e.  the  alternative 
attribution  of  unity  or  plurality,  is,  thus,  in  a  first  respect,  a 
primary  attribute  of  matter.  But  again,  every  single  body  is 
also,  in  different  points  of  view,  at  the  same  time  one  and  many. 
Considered  as  a  whole,  it  is,  and  is  apprehended,  as  actually 
one  ;  considered  as  an  extended  whole,  it  is,  and  is  conceived, 
potentially  many.  Body  being  thus  necessarily  known,  if  not 
as  already  divided,  still  as  always  capable  of  division.  Divisibil- 
ity or  Number  is  thus  likewise,  in  a  second  respect,  a  Primary 
attribute  of  matter. 

Body  (multo  majus  this  or  that  body)  is  not  infinitely 


11. 


extended.  Each  body  must  therefore  have  a  certain  finite  ex- 
tension, which,  by  comparison  with  that  of  other  bodies,  must  be 
less,  or  greater,  or  equal ;  in  other  words,  it  must  by  relation  have 
a  certain  Size,  Bulk,  or  Magnitude ;  and  this,  again,  as  estimated 
both  (a)  by  the  quantity  of  space  occupied,  and  (b)  by  the  quan- 
tity of  matter  occupying,  affords  likewise  the  relative  attributes 
of  Dense  and  Rare.  • 

Finally,  bodies,  as  not  infinitely  extended,  have,  conse- 


111. 


quently,  their  extension  bounded.     But   bounded  extension  is 
necessarily  of  a  certain  Shape  or  Figure. 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


337 


B.  —  The  negative  notion  —  the  impossibihty  of  conceivino- 
the  compression  of  body  from  an  extended  to  an  unextended, 
its  elimination  out  of  space  —  affords  the  positive  notion  of  an 
insuperable  power  in  body  of  resisting  such  compression  or 
elimination.  Tliis  force,  which,  as  absolute,  is  a  conception  of 
the  Understanding,  not  an  appreheui^ion  through  Sense,  has 
received  no  precise  and  unambiguous  name.  We  might  call 
it  Ultimate  or  Absolute  Incompressibility. 

II-  —  The  other  most  general  attribute  of  matter  —  that  of 
being  contained  in  space  —  in  like  manner  affords,  by  explica- 
tion, an  absolute  and  a  relative  attril)ute :  viz.  (A)  the  Mobility, 
that  is,  tlie  possible  motion,  and,  consequently,  the  possible  rest, 
of  a  body ;  jmd  (B)  the  Situation,  Positioti,  Ubication,  that  is, 
the  local  correlation  of  bodies  in  space.     For 

A.  —  Space  being  conceived  as  infinite  (or  rather  being  in- 
conceivable as  not  infinite),  and  the  place  occupied  by  body  as 
finite,  body  in  general,  and,  of  course,  each  body  in  particular, 
is  conceived  capable  either  of  remaining  in  the  place  it  now 
liolds,  or  of  being  translated  from  that  to  any  then  unoccupied 
part  of  space.     And 

B.  —  As  every  part  of  space,  i.e.  every  potential  j^/ace,  holds 
a  certain  position  relative  to  every  other,  so,  consequently,  must 
bodies,  in  so  far  as  they  are  all  contained  in  space,  and  as  each 
occupies,  at  one  time,  one  determinate  space. 

The  Primary  Qualities  of  matter  thus  develop  themselves  with 
rigid  necessity  out  of  the  simple  datum  of — substance  occupying 
space.  In  a  certain  sort,  and  by  contrast  to  the  others,  they  are, 
therefore,  notions  a  priori,  and  to  be  viewed,  pro  tanto,  as  pro- 
ducts of  the  Understanding.  The  others,  on  the  contrary,  it  is 
manifestly  impossible  to  deduce,  i.  e.  to  evolve  out  of  such  a 
given  notion.  They  must  be  induced,  i.  e.  generalized  from 
experience ;  are,  therefore,  in  strict  propriety,  notions  a  poste- 
riori, and,  in  the  last  resort,  mere  products  of  Sense. 

Induction  of  the  class  of  Secundo- Primary  Qualities.  —  Tliis 
terminates  in  the  following  conclusions.  —  These  qualities  are 
modifications,  but  contingent  modifications,  of  the  Primary. 
They  suppose  the  Primary ;  the  Primary  do  not  suppose  them. 

29 


338 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


339 


i 


They  have  all  relation  to  space,  and  motion  in  space ;  and  are 
all  contained  under  the  category  of  Resistance  or  Pressure. 
For  they  are  all  only  various  forms  of  a  relative  or  superable 
resistance  to  displacement,  which,  we  learn  by  experience,  bodies 
oppose  to  other  bodies,  and,  among  these,  to  our  organism  moving 
through  space ;  —  a  resistance  similar  in  kind  (and  therefore 
clearly  conceived)  to  tliat  absolute  or  insuperable  resistance, 
which  we  are  compelled,  independently  of  experience,  to  think 
that  every  part  of  matter  would  oppose  to  any  attempt  to  de- 
prive it  of  its  space,  by  compressing  it  into  an  inextended. 

In  so  far,  therefore,  as  they  suppose  the  Primary,  which  are 
necessary,  while  they  themselves  are  only  accidental,  they  ex- 
hibit, on  the  one  side,  what  may  be  called  a  quasi-Primary  qual- 
ity ;  and,  in  this  respect  they  are  to  be  recognized  as  percepts, 
not  sensations,  as  objective  affections  of  things,  and  not  as  sub- 
jective affections  of  us.  But,  on  the  other  side,  this  objective 
element  is  always  found  accompanied  by  a  Secondary  quality  or 
sensorial  passion.  The  Secundo-primary  qualities  have  thus  al- 
ways two  phases,  both  immediately  apprehended.  On  their 
Primary  or  objective  phasis,  they  manifest  themselves  as  degrees 
of  resistance  opposed  to  our  locomotive  energy  ;  on  their  Second- 
ary or  subjective  phasis,  as  modes  of  resistance  or  pressure  af- 
fecting our  sentient  organism.  Thus  standing  between,  and,  in 
a  certain  sort,  made  up  of,  the  two  classes  of  Primary  and  Sec- 
ondary qualities,  to  neither  of  which,  however,  can  they  be  re- 
duced ;  this  their  partly  common,  i)artly  peculiar  nature,  vindi- 
cates to  them  the  dignity  of  a  class  apart  from  both  the  others, 
and  this  under  the  appropriate  appellation  of  the  Secundo-pri- 
mary qualities. 

They  admit  of  a  classification  from  two  different  points  of 
view.  They  may  be  physically,  they  may  be  psychologically, 
distributed.  —  Considered  physically,  or  in  an  objective  relation, 
they  are  to  be  reduced  to  classes  corresponding  to  the  different 
sources  in  external  nature  from  which  the  resistance  or  pressure 
springs.  And  these  sources  are,  in  all,  three :  —  (I.)  that  of 
Co-attraction  ;  (II.)  that  of  Repulsion  ;  (III.)  that  of  Inertia. 

I-  —  Of  the  resisttuice  of  Co-attraction  there  may  be  distin- 


( 


guished,  on  the  same  objective  principle,  two  subaltern  genera; 
to  wit  (A)  that  of  Gravity,  or  the  co-attraction  of  the  particles 
of  body  in  general ;  and  (B)  that  of  Cohesion,  or  the  co-attrac- 
tion of  the  particles  of  this  and  that  body  in  particular. 

A.  —  The  resistance  of  Gravity  or  Weight  according  to  its 
degree  (which,  again,  is  in  proportion  to  the  Bulk  and  Density 
of  ponderable  matter),  affords,  under  it,  the  relative  qualities  of 
Heavy  and  Light  (absolute  and  specific). 

B.  —  The  resistance  of  Cohesion  (using  that  term  in  its  most 
unexclusive  universality)  contains  many  species  and  counter- 
species.  Without  proposing  an  exhaustive,  or  accurately  subor- 
dinated, list ;  —  of  these  there  may  be  enumerated  (i.)  the  Hard 
and  Soft ;  (ii.)  the  Firm  (Fixed,  Stable,  Concrete,  Solid)  and 
Fluid  (Liquid),  the  Fluid  being  again  subdivided  into  the  Thick 
and  Thin;  (iii.)  the  Viscid  and  Friable;  with  (iv.)  the  Tough 
and  Brittle  (Irruptile  and  Ruptile)  ;  (v.)  the  Rigid  and  Flexible  ; 
(vi.)  the  Fissile  and  Injissile;  (vii.)  the  Ductile  and  Inductile 
(Extensible  and  Inextensible)  ;  (viii.)  the  Retractile  and  Irre- 
tractile  (Elastic  and  Inelastic)  ;  (ix.)  (combined  with  Figure) 
the  Rough  and  Smooth  ;  (x.)  the  Slippery  and  Tenacious. 

II.  —  The  resistance  from  Repulsion  is  divided  into  the  coun- 
ter qualities  of  (A)  the  (relatively)  Compressible  and  Incom- 
pressible;  (B)  the  Resilient  and  Irresilicnt  (Elastic  and  In- 
elastic). 

III.  —  The  resistance  from  Inertia  (combined  Avith  Bulk  and 
Cohesion)  comprises  the  counter  qualities  of  the  (relatively) 
Movable  and  Immovable. 

There  are  thus,  at  least,  fifteen  pairs  of  counter  attributes 
which  we  may  refer  to  the  Secundo-primary  Qualities  of  Body ; 
—  all  obtained  by  the  division  and  subdivision  of  the  resisting 
forces  of  matter,  considered  in  an  objective  or  physical  point  of 
view. 

Considered  psychologically,  or  in  a  subjective  relation,  they 
are  to  be  discriminated,  under  the  genus  of  the  Relatively  resist- 
ing, [I.]  according  to  the  degree  in  which  the  resisting  force 
might  counteract  our  locomotive  faculty  or  muscular  force  ;  and, 
[II.]  according  to  the  mode  in  which  it  might  affect  our  capacity 


340 


PRIMARY  AJJfD  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


PRIMARY  AND  SECONDARY  QUALITIES. 


341 


of  fec4iiig  or  sentient  organism.  Of  these  species,  the  former 
would  contain  under  it  the  gradations  of  the  quasi-Primary 
quality,  the  latter  the  varieties  of  the  Secondary  quality — these 
constituting  the  two  elements  of  which,  in  combination,  every 
Secundo-primary  quality  is  made  up.  So  much  for  the  induc- 
tion of  the  Secundo-primary  qualities. 

Induction  of  the  Secondary  Qualities.  —  Its  results  are  the 
following.  —  The  Secondary,  as  manifested  to  us,  are  not,  in 
propriety,  qualities  of  Body  at  all.  As  apprehended,  they  are 
only  subjective  affections,  and  belong  only  to  bodies  in  so  far  as 
these  are  supposed  furnished  with  the  powers  capable  of  specifi- 
cally determining  the  various  parts  of  our  nervous  apparatus  to 
the  peculiar  action,  or  rather  passion,  of  which  they  are  suscep- 
tible ;  which  determined  action  or  passion  is  the  quality  of  which 
alone  we  are  immediately  cognizant,  the  external  concause  of 
that  internal  effect  remaining  to  perception  altogether  unknown. 
Tlius,  the  Secondary  qualities  (and  the  same  is  to  be  said,  mu- 
tatis mutandis,  of  the  Secundo-primary)  are,  considered  subjec- 
tively, and  considered  objectively,  affections  or  qualities  of  things 
diametrically  opposed  in  nature  —  of  the  organic  and  inorganic, 
of  tlie  sentient  and  insentient,  of  mind  and  matter ;  and  though, 
as  mutually  correlative,  and  their  several  pairs  rarely  obtaining 
in  common  language  more  than  a  single  name,  they  cannot  well 
be  considered,  except  in  conjunction,  under  the  same  category 
or  jjeneral  class ;  still  their  essential  contrast  of  character  must 
be  ever  carel'uUy  borne  in  mind.  And  in  speaking  of  these 
qualities,  as  we  are  here  cliiefly  concerned  with  them  on  their 
subjective  side,  I  request  it  may  be  observed,  that  I  shall  em- 
ploy the  expression  Secondarij  qualities  to  denote  those  phenom- 
enal affections  determined  in  our  sentient  organism  by  the 
agency  of  external  bodies,  jmd  not,  unless  when  otherwise 
stated,  the  occult  powers  themselves  from  which  that  agency 
proceeds. 

Of  the  Secondary  qualities,  in  this  relation,  there  are  various 
kinds ;  the  variety  principally  depending  on  the  differences  of 
the  different  parts  of  our  nervous  apparatus.  Such  are  the 
proper  sensibles,  the  idiopathic  affections  of  our  several  organs 


I 


of  sense,  as  Color,  Sound,  Flavor,  Savor,  and  Tactual  sensation ; 
such  are  the  feehngs  from  Heat,  Electricity,  Galvanism,  etc. ; 
nor  need  it  be  added,  such  are  the  muscular  and  cutaneous 
sensations  which  accompany  the  perception  of  the  Secundo-pri- 
mary qualities.  Such,  though  less  directly  the  result  of  foreign 
causes,  are  Titillation,  Sneezing,  Horripilation,  Shuddering,  the 
feeling  of  what  is  called  Setting-the-teeth-on-edge,  etc.,  etc. ; 
such,  in  fine,  are  all  the  various  sensations  of  bodily  pleasure 
and  pain  determined  by  the  action  of  external  stimuli. 

What  they  are  in  general.  —  1.  The  Primary  are  less  prop- 
erly denominated  Quahties  (Suchnesses),  and  deserve  the  name 
only  as  we  conceive  them  to  distinguish  body  from  not-body,  — 
corporeal  from  incorporeal  substance.  They  are  thus  merely 
the  attributes  of  body  as  body,  —  corporis  tit  corpus.  The  Se- 
cundo-primary and  Secondary,  on  the  contrary,  are  in  strict 
propriety  denominated  Qualities,  for  they  discriminate  body 
from  body.  They  are  the  attributes  of  body  as  this  or  that  kind 
of  body,  —  corporis  ut  tale  corpus.  * 

2.  The  Primary  determine  the  possibility  of  matter  abso- 
lutely ;  the  Secundo-primary,  the  possibility  of  the  material 
universe  as  actually  constituted ;  the  Secondary,  the  possibihty 
of  our  relation  as  sentient  existences  to  that  universe. 

3.  Under  the  Primary,  we  apprehend  modes  of  the  Non-ego ; 
under  the  Secundo-primary,  we  apprehend  modes  both  of  the 
Ego  and  of  the  Non-ego ;  under  the  Secondary,  we  apprehend 
modes  of  the  Ego,  and  infer  modes  of  the  Non-ego. 

4.  The  Primary  are  apprehended  as  they  are  in  bodies  ;  the 
Secondary  as  they  are  in  us ;  the  Secundo-primary  as  they  are 
in  bodies,  and  as  they  are  in  us. 

5.  The  Primary  are  conf*eived  as  necessary  and  perceived 
as  actual ;  the  Secundo-primary  are  perceived  and  conceived  as 
actual ;  the  Secondary  are  inferred  and  conceived  as  possible. 

6.  The  Primary  may  be  roundly  characterized  as  mathemat- 
ical ;  the  Secundo-primary,  as  mechanical ;  the  Secondary,  as 
physiological. 

29* 


i 


i 


ij 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. -OBJECTIONS  TO  THE  DOC- 
TRINE OF  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. -THE  REPRE- 
SENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED. 

From  our  previous  discussions,  you  are  now,  in  some  meas- 
ure, prepared  for  a  consideration  of  the  grounds  on  which 
philosophers  have  so  generally  asserted  the  scientific  necessity 
of  repressing  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  the  fact  of  our 
immediate  perception  of  external  objects,  and  of  allowing  us 
only  a  mediate  knowledge  of  the  material  world :  a  procedure 
by  which  they  either  admit,  or  cannot  rationally  deny,  that 
Consciousness  is  a  mendacious  witness;  that  Philosophy  and 
the  Common  Sense  of  mankind  are  placed  in  contradiction ; 
nay,  that  the  only  legitimate  philosophy  is  an  absolute  and  uni- 
versal scepticism.  That  consciousness,  in  perception,  affords  us, 
as  I  have  stated,  an  assurance  of  an  intuitive  cognition  of  the 
Non-ego,  is  not  only  notorious  to  every  one  who  will  interrogate 
consciousness  as  to  the  fact,  but  is,  as  I  have  already  shown  you, 
acknowledged  not  only  by  Cosmothetic  Idealists,  but  even  by 
absolute  Idealists  and  Sceptics. 

Order  of  the  discussion.  —  In  considering  this  subject,  it  is 
manifest  that,  before  rejecting  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to 
our  immediate  knowledge  of  the  Non-ego,  the  philosophers  were 
bound,  in  the  first  place,  to  evince  the  absolute  necessity  of  their 
rejection ;  mid,  in  the  second  place,  in  substituting  an  hypothe- 
sis in  the  room  of  the  rejected  fact,  they  are  bound  to  substitute 
a  legitimate  hypothesis,  — that  is,  one  which  does  not  violate 
the  laws  under  which  an  hypothesis  can  be  rationally  proposed. 

I  shall,  therefore,  divide  the  discussion  into  two  sections.     In 
(342) 


/ 


OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

tlie  former,  I  shall  state  the  reasons,  as  far  as  I  have  been  able 
to  discover  them,  on  which  philosophers  have  attempted  to  man- 
ifest the  impossibility  of  acquiescing  in  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness and  the  general  belief  of  mankind ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  endeavor  to  refute  these  reasons,  by  showing  that  they  do 
not  establish  the  necessity  required.  In  the  latter,  I  shall  at- 
tempt to  prove  that  the  hy])othesis  proposed  by  the  philosophers, 
in  place  of  the  fact  of  consciousness,  does  not  fulfil  the  condi- 
tions of  a  legitimate  hypothesis,  —  in  fact,  violates  them  almost 
all.  In  the  first  place,  then,  in  regard  to  the  reasons  assigned 
by  philosophers  for  their  refusal  of  the  fact  of  our  immediate 
perception  of  external  things,  —  of  these,  I  have  been  able  to 
collect  in  all  five. 

The  first  ground  of  rejection.  —  The  first,  and  highest,  ground 
on  which  it  may  be  held,  that  the  object  immediately  known  in 
perception  is  a  modification  of  the  mind  itself,  is  the  following : 
Perception  is  a  cognition  or  act  of  knowledge  ;  a  cognition  is  an 
immanent  act  of  mind ;  but  to  suj^ijose  the  cognition  of  any 
thing  external  to  the  mind,  would  be  to  suppose  an  act  of  the 
mind  going  out  of  itself,  in  other  words,  a  transeunt  act ;  but 
action  supposes  existence,  and  nothing  can  act  where  it  is  not ; 
therefore,  to  act  out  of  self  is  to  exist  out  of  self,  which  is  ab- 
surd. 

This  argument,  though  I  have  never  met  with  it  explicitly 
announced,  is  still  implicitly  supposed  in  the  arguments  of  those 
l)hilosophers  who  hold,  that  the  mind  cannot  be  conscious  of 
aught  beyond  its  own  modifications.  It  will  not  stand  examina- 
tion.  It  is  very  true  that  we  can  neither  prove,  nor  even  con- 
ceive, how  the  Ego  can  be  conscious  or  immediately  cognitive 
of  the  Non-ego;  but  this,  our  ignorance,  is  no  sufficient  reason 
on  which  to  deny  the  possibility  of  the  fiict.  As  a  fact,  and  a 
primary  fact,  of  consciousness,  we  must  be  ignorant  of  the  why 
and  the  how  of  its  reality,  for  we  have  no  higher  notion  through 
which  to  comprehend  it,  and,  if  it  involve  no  contradiction,  we 
are,  philosopliically,  bound  to  accept  it.  But  if  we  examine  the 
argument  a  little  closer,  we  shall  find  that  it  proves  too  much ; 
for,  on  the  same  principle,  we  should  establish  the  impossibility 


\ 


-     OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

of  any  overt  act  of  volition,  —  nay,  even  the  impossibility  of 
all  agency  and  mutual  causation.     For  if,  on  the  ground  that 
nothing  can  act  out  of  itself,  because  nothing  exists  out  of  itself, 
we  deny  to  mind  tlie  immediate  knowledge  of  things  external ;' 
on  the  same  principle,  we  must  deny  to  mind  the  power  of  de- 
termining any  muscular  movement  of  the  body.    And  if  the  ac- 
tion of  every  existence  were  limited  to  the  sphere  of  that  existence 
itself,  then,  no  one  thing  could  act  upon  any  other  thing,  and  all 
action  and  reaction,  in  the  universe,  would  be  impossibler  This  is 
a  general  absurdity,  wliich  follows  from  the  principle  in  question. 
But  there  is  a  peculiar  and  proximate  absurdity,  into  which 
this  theory  runs,  in  the  attempt  it  makes  to  escape  the  inexpli- 
cable.    It  is  this  :  —  The  Cosmothetic  Idealists,  who  found  their 
doctrine  on  the  impossibility  of  mind  acting  out  of  itself,  in  re- 
lation to  matter,  are  obliged  to  admit  the  still  less  conceivable 
possibility  of  matter  acting  out  of  itselt;  in  relation  to  mind. 
They  deny  that  mind  is  immediately  conscious  of  matter ;  and, 
to  save  the  phajnomenon  of  perception,  they  assert  that  the 
Non-ego,  as  given  in  that  act,  is  only  an  illusive  representation 
of  the  Non-ego,  in,  and  by,  the  Ego.     WeU,  admitting  this,  and 
allowing  them  to  belie  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  the 
reahty  of  the  Non-ego  as  perceived,  what  do  they  gain  by  this  ? 
They  surrender  the  simple  datum  of  consciousness, —.  that  the 
external  object  is  immediately  known  ;  and,  in  lieu  of  that  real 
object,  they  substitute  a  representative  object.     But  still  they 
hold  (at  least  those  who  do  not  fly  to  some  hyperphysical  hy- 
pothesis) that  the  mind  is  determined  to  this  representation  by 
the  material  reality,  to  which  material  reality  they  must,  there- 
fore,  accord  the  very  transeunt  efficiency  which  they  deny  to  the 
immaterial  principle.     This  first  and  highest  ground,  therefore, 
on  which  it  is  attempted  to  estabhsh  the  necessity  of  a  repre- 
sentative perception,  is  not  only  insufficient,  but  self-contradic- 
tory. 

The  second  ground  of  rejection.  —  The  second  ground  on 
which  it  has  been  attempted  to  establish  the  necessity  of  this 
hypothesis,  is  one  which  has  been  more  generally  and  more  openly 
founded  on  than  the  preceding.     Mind  and  matter,  it  is  said,  are 


1 


0! 


OBJECTIONS   TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

substances,  not  only  of  different,  but  of  the  most  opposite,  na- 
tures ;  separated,  as  some  philosophers  express  it,  by  the  whole 
diameter  of  being :  but  what  immediately  knows,  must  be  of  a 
nature  correspondent,  analogous,  to  that  which  is  known ;  mind 
cannot,  therefore,  be  conscious  or  immediately  cognizant  of 
what  is  so  disproportioned  to  its  essence  as  matter. 

Tliis  principle  is  one  whose  influence  is  seen  pervading  the 
whole  history  of  philosophy,  and  the  tracing  of  this  inflirence 
would  form  the  subject  of  a  curious  treatise.     To  it  we  princi- 
j .  pally  owe  the  doctrine  of  a  representative  perception,  in  one  or 

V  other  of  its  forms ;  and  in  a  higher  or  lower  potence,  according 

as  the  representative  object  was  held  to  be,  in  relation  to  mind° 
of  a  nature  either  the  same  or  similar.     Derivative  from  the 
principle  in  its  lower  potence  or  degree,  (that  is,  the  immediate 
object  being  supposed   to   be  only  something   similar    to  the 
mind,)  we  have,  among  other  less  celebrated  and  less  definite 
theories,  the  intentional  species  of  the  Schoolmen  (at  least  as 
generally  held),  and  the  ideas  of  Malebranche  and  Berkeley. 
In  its  higher  potence,  (that  is,  where  the  representative  object 
is  supposed  to  be  of  a  nature  not  merely  similar  to,  but  identi- 
cal with,  mind,  though  it  may  be  numerically  different  from 
individual  minds,)  it  affords  us,  among  other  modifications,  the 
gnostic  reasons   of  the    Platonists,   the  preexisting  species  of 
Avicenna  and  other  Arabian  Aristotelians,  tlie  ideas  of  Des- 
cartes, Arnauld,  Leibnitz,  Buffier,  and  Condillac,  the  phcenom- 
ena  of  Kant,  and   the   external  states  of   Dr.  Brown.     It  is 
doubtful  to  which  head  w^e  should  refer  Locke,  and  Newton, 
and  Clarke,  —  nay,  whether  we  should  not  refer  them  to  the 
class   of  those  who,   like    Democritus,   Epicurus,  and   Digby, 
viewed  the  representative  or  immediate  object  as  a  material 
efllux  or  ])ropagation  from  the  external  reality  to  the  bram. 
To  the  influence  of  the  same  principle,  through  the  refusal  of 
the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  the  duality  of  our  knowledge, 
are  also  mediately  to  be  traced  the  unitarian  systems  of  abso- 
lute identity,  materialism,  and  idealism. 

Refutation  of  this  principle.  —  But,  if  no  principle  was  ever 
more  universal  in  its  effects,  none  was  ever  more  arbitrarily 


i 


xu     OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

assumed.     It  not  only  can  pretend  to  no  necessity  ;  it  has  abso- 
lutely no  probability  in  its  favor.     Some  philosophers,  as  Anax- 
agoras,  Heraclitus,  Alcmaion,  have  even  held  that  the  relation 
of  knowledge  supposes,  not  a  similarity  or  sameness  between 
subject  and  object,  but,  in  fact,  a  contrariety  or  opposition ;  and 
Aristotle  himself  is  sometimes  in  favor  of  this  opinion,  though, 
sometimes,  it  would  appear,  in  favor  of  the  other.    But,  however 
this  may  be,  each  assertion  is  just  as  likely,  and  just  as  unphi- 
losophical,  as  its  converse.     We  know,  and  can  know,  nothiu'r  a 
•priori  of  what  is  possible  or  impossible  to  mind,  and  it  is  only 
by  observation  and  by  generalization  a  posteriori,  that  we  can 
ever  hope  to  attain  any  insight  into  the  question.     But  the  veiy 
first  fact  of  our  experience  contradicts  the  assertion,  that  mind, 
as  of  an  opposite  nature,  can  have  no  immediate  cognizance  of 
matter ;  for  the  primary  datum  of  consciousness  is,  that  in  per- 
ception, we  have  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  the  Ego  and  of  the 
Non-ego,  equally  and  at  once.     This  second  ground,  therefore, 
affords  us  no  stronger  necessity  than  the  first,  for  denying  the 
possibility  of  the  fact  of  which  consciousness  assures  us. 

The  third  ground  of  rejection,  —  The  third  ground  on  which 
the  representative  hypothesis  of  perception  is  founded^  and  that 
apparently  alone  contemplated  by  Reid  and  Stewart,  is,  that 
the  mind  can  only  know  inmiediately  tliat  to  which  it  is  imme- 
diately present ;  but  as  external  objects  can  neither  themselves 
come  into  the  mind,  nor  the  mind  go  out  to  them,  such  presence 
is  impossible ;  therefore,  external  objects  can  only  be  mediately 
known,  through  some  representative  object,  whether  that  object 
be  a  modification  of  mind,  or  sometliing  in  immediate  relation 
to  the  mind.     It  was  this  dilHculty  of  bringing  the  subject  and 
object  into  proximate  relation,  that,  in  part,  determined  all  the 
various  schemes  of  a  representative  perception ;  but  it  seems 
to  have  been  the  one  which  solely  determined  the  peculiar  form 
of  that  doctrine  in  the   pKflosophy  of  Democritus,  Epicurus, 
Digby,  and  others,  under  which  it  is  held,  that  the  immediate  or 
internal  object  is  a  representative  emanation,  propagated  from 
the  external  reality  to  the  sensorium. 

Now  this  objection  to  the  hnmediate  cognition  of  external 


i\ 


OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

objects,  has,  as  far  as  I  know,  been  redargued  in  three  different 
ways.  In  the  Jirst  place,  it  has  been  denied,  that  the  external 
reality  cannot  itself  come  into  the  mind.  In  the  second,  it  has 
been  asserted,  that  a  faculty  of  the  mind  itself  does  actually  go 
out  to  the  external  reahty ;  and,  in  the  third  place,  it  has  been 
maintained  that,  though  the  mind  neither  goes  out,  nor  the  real- 
ity comes  in,  and  though  subject  and  object  are,  therefore,  not 
present  to  each  other,  still  that  the  mind,  thi'ough  the  agency 
of  God,  has  an  immediate  perception  of  the  external  object. 

The  Jirst  mode  of  obviating  the  present  objection  to  the  possi- 
bility of  an  immediate  perception,  might  be  thought  too  absurd 
to  have  been  ever  attempted.  But  the  observation  of  Varro, 
that  there  is  nothing  so  absurd  w^hich  has  not  been  asserted  by 
some  philosopher,  is  not  destined  to  be  negatived  in  the  present 
instance.  In  opposition  to  Locke's  thesis,  "that  the  mind 
knows  not  things  immediately,  but  only  by  the  intervention  of 
the  ideas  it  has  of  them,"  and  in  opposition  to  the  whole  doc- 
trine of  representation,  it  is  maintained,  in  terms,  by  Sergeant, 
that  "  I  know  the  very  thing ;  therefore,  the  very  tiling  is  in 
my  act  of  knowledge ;  but  my  act  of  knowledge  is  in  my 
understanding ;  therefore,  the  thing  w^hich  is  in  my  knowledge, 
is  also  in  my  understanding."  We  may  suspect  that  tliis  is 
only  a  paradoxical  way  of  stating  his  opinion ;  but  though  this 
author,  the  earliest  and  one  of  the  most  eloquent  of  Locke's 
antagonists,  be  destitute  neither  of  learning  nor  of  acuteness,  I 
must  confess,  that  Locke  and  Molyneux  cannot  be  blamed  in 
pronouncing  his  doctrine  unintelligible. 

The  second  mode  of  obviating  the  objection,  —  by  allowing  to 
the  mind  a  power  of  sallying  out  to  the  external  reality,  has 
higher  authority  in  its  favor.  That  vision  is  effected  by  a  per- 
ceptive emanation  from  the  eye,  was  held  by  Empedocles,  the 
Platonists,  and  Stoics,  and  was  adopted  also  by  Alexander  the 
Aphrodisian,  by  Euclid,  Ptolemy,  Gfelen,  and  Alchindus.  This 
opinion,  as  held  by  these  philosophers,  was  limited  ;  and,  though 
erroneous,  is  not  to  be  viewed  as  irrational.  But  in  the  hands 
of  Lord  Monboddo,  it  is  carried  to  an  absurdity  which  leaves 
even  Sergeant  far  behmd.      "The   mind,"  says   the  learned 


I 


'I 


i«     OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

author  of  Ancient  Metaphysics,  "  is  not  where  the  body  is,  when 
it  perceives  what  is  distant  from  tlie  body,  either  in  time  or 
place,  because  nothing  can  act  but  when  and  wliere  it  is.  Now 
the  mind  acts  when  it  perceives.  The  mind,  therefore,  of  every 
animal  who  has  memory  or  imagination,  acts,  and,  by  conse- 
quence, exists,  when  and  where  the  body  is  not;  for  it  per- 
ceives objects  distant  from  the  body,  both  in  time  and  place." 

The   third  mode  is   apparently  that    adopted  by   Rcid  and 
Stewart,  who  hold,  that"  the  mind  has  an  inmiediate  knowled«-e 
of  the  external  reality,  though  the  sul)ject  and  object  may  not 
be  present  to  each  other;  and,  though  this  be  not  explicitly  or 
obtrusively  stated,  that  the  mind  obtains  this  immediate  know!-, 
edge  through  the  agency  of  God.     Dr.  Reid's  doctrine  of  per- 
ception is  thus  summed  up  by  Mr.  Stewart :  "  To  what,  then, 
it  may  be  asked,  does  this  statement  amount?     Merely  to  this : 
that  the  mind  is  so  formed  that  certain  impressions  produced  on 
our  organs  of  sense  by  external  objects  are  followed  by  corre- 
spondent sensations,  and  that  these  sensations,  (which  have  no 
more  resemblance  to  the  qualities  of  matter  than  the  words  of 
a  language  have  to  the  things  they  denote,)  are  followed  by  a 
perception  of  the  existence  and  qualities  of  the  bodies  by  which 
the  impressions  are  made ;  that  all  the  steps  of  this  process  are 
equally  incomprehensible  ;  and  that,  for  any  thing  we  can  prove 
to  the  contrary,  the  connection  between  the  sensation  and  the 
perception,  as  well  as  that  between  the  impression  and  the  sen- 
sation, may  be  both  arbitrary ;  that  it  is,  therefore,  by  no  means 
impossible,  that  our  sensations  may  be  merely  the  occasions  on 
which  the  corres})ondent  perceptions  are  excited ;  and  that,  at 
any  rate,  the  consideration  of  these  sensations,  which  are  attri- 
butes of  mind,  can  throw  no  light  on  the  manner  in  which  we 
acquire  our  knowledge  of  the  existence  and  qualities  of  body. 
From  this  view  of  the  subject  it  follows,  that  it  is  the  external 
objects  themselves,  and  not  any  si)ecies  or  images  of  the  objects, 
that  the  mind  perceives ;  and  that,  although,  by  the  constitution 
of  our  nature,  certain  sensations  are  rendered  the  constant  ante- 
cedents of  our  perceptions,  yet  it  is  just  as  dillicult  to  explain 
how  our  perceptions  are  obtained  by  their  means,  as  it  would  be 


\ 


OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED,     349 

upon  the  supposition  that  the  mind  were  all  at  once  inspired 
with  them,  without  any  concomitant  sensations  whatever."  * 

The  doctrine  of  Occasional  Causes.  —  This  statement,  when 
illustrated  by  the  doctrine  of  these  philosophers  in  regard  to  the 
distinctions  of  Efficient  and  Physical  Causes,  might  be  almost 
identified  with  the  Cartesian  doctrine  of  O'jcasional  Causes. 
According  to  Reid  and  Stewart,  —  and  the  opinion  has  been 
more  explicitly  asserted  by  the  latter,  —  there  is  no  really  effi- 
cient cause  in  nature  but  one,  namely,  the  Deity.  What  are 
called  Physical  causes  and  effects  being  antecedents  and  conse- 
quents, but  not  in  virtue  of  any  mutual  and  necessary  depen- 
dence ;  —  the  only  p:fficient  being  God,  who,  on  occasion  of  the 
antecedent,  which  is  called  the  physical  cause,  produces  the 
consequent,  which  is  called  the  physical  effect.  So  in  the  case 
of  perception ;  the  cognition  of  the  external  object  is  not,  or 
may  not  be,  a  consequence  of  the  immediate  and  natural  rela- 
tion of  that  object  to  the  mind,  but  of  the  agency  of  God,  who, 
as  it  were,  reveals  the  outer  existence  to  our  perception.  A 
similar  doctrine  is  held  by  a  great  Geraian  philosopher,  Fred- 
eric Henry  Jacobi. 

To  this  opinion  many  objections  occur.     In  the  frst  place,  so 

*Tlf  an  immediate  knowledge  of  external  things  — that  is,  a  conscious- 
ness of  the  qualities  of  the  Non-ego  — he  admitted,  the  belief  of  their  exist- 
ence follows  of  course.  On  this  supposition,  therefore,  such  a  belief  would 
not  be  unaccountable ;  for  it  would  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact  of  the 
knowledge,  in  which  it  would  necessarily  be  contained.  Our  belief,  in  this 
case,  of  the  existence  of  external  objects  would  not  be  more  inexplicable 
than  our  belief  that  2  +  2  =  4.  In  both  cases,  it  would  be  sufficient  to  say, 
we  believe  because  we  know ;  for  belief  is  only  unaccountable  when  it  is  not 
the  consequent  or  concomitant  of  knowledge.  By  this,  however,  I  do  not, 
of  course,  mcdn  to  say,  that  knowledge  is  not  in  itself  marvellous  and 
unaccountable. 

Mr.  Stewart  proposes  a  supplement  to  this  doctrine  of  Reid,  in  order  to 
explain  why  we  believe  in  the  existence  of  the  qualities  of  external  objects 
when  they  are  not  the  objects  of  our  perception,  —  [that  is,  why  we  believe 
that  they  continue  to  exist  after  Ave  have  ceased  to  perceive  them].  This 
belief  he  holds  to  be  the  result  of  experience,  in  combination  with  an  orig- 
inal principle  of  our  constitution,  whereby  we  are  determined  to  believe  in 
the  permanence  of  the  laws  of  nature.]  —  iVb^es  to  Reid. 

30  <^ 


« 

J 


».- 


350     OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

far  is  it  from  being,  as  Mr.  Stewart  affirms,  a  plain  statement  of 
the  facts,  apart  from  all  hypothesis,  it  is  manifestly  hypothetical. 
In  the  second  place,  the  hypoljiesis  assumes  an  occult  princi- 
ple ;  —  it  is  mystical.  In  the  third  place,  the  hypothesis  is 
hyperphysicaly  —  calling  in  the  proximate  assistance  of  the 
Deity,  while  the  necessity  of  such  intervention  is  not  estab- 
lished. In  tlie  fourth  place,  it  goes  even  far  to  frustrate  the 
whole  doctrine  of  the  two  philosophers  in  regard  to  perception, 
as  a  doctrine  of  intuition.  For  if  God  has  bestowed  on  me  the 
faculty  of  immediately  perceiving  the  external  object,  there  is 
no  need  to  suppose  the  necessity  of  an  immediate  intervention 
of  the  Deity  to  make  that  act  effectual ;  and  if,  on  the  contrary, 
the  perception  I  have  of  the  reality  is  only  excited  by  the 
agency  of  God,  then  I  can  hardly  be  held  to  know  that  reality, 
immediately  and  in  itself,  but  only  mediately,  through  the 
notion  of  it  determined  in  my  mind. 

The  doctrine  of  immediate  perception  not  unintelligihle. — 
Let  us  try,  then,  whether  it  be  impossible,  not  to  explain  (for 
that  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  dream  of  attempting),  but  to  ren- 
der intelligible,  the  possibility  of  an  immediate  perception  of 
external  objects,  without  assuming  any  of  the  three  preceding 
hypotheses,  and  without  postulating  aught  that  can  fairly  be 
refused. 

Where  the  mind  is  situated.  —  Now,  in  the  first  place,  there 
is  no  good  ground  to  suppose,  that  the  mind  is  situate  solely  in 
the  brain,  or  exclusively  in  any  one  part  of  the  body.  On  the 
contrary,  the  supposition  that  it  is  really  present  wherever  we  are 
conscious  that  it  acts,  —  in  a  word,  the  Peripatetic  aphorism, 
the  sold  is  all  in  the  whole  and  all  in  every  part,  —  is  more  phi- 
losophical, and,  consequently,  more  probable,  than  any  other 
opinion.  It  has  not  been  always  noticed,  even  by  those  who 
deem  themselves  the  chosen  champions  of  the  immateriality  of 
mind,  that  we  materialize  mind,  when  we  attribute  to  it  the  rela- 
tions of  matter.  Thus,  we  cannot  attribute  a  local  seat  to  the 
soul,  without  clothing  it  with  the  properties  of  extension  and 
place,  and  those  who  suppose  this  seat  to  be  but  a  point,  only 
aggravate  the  difficulty.     Admitting  the  spirituality  of  mind,  all 


OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED.     351 

that  we  know  of  the  relation  of  soul  and  body  is,  that  the  former 
is  connected  with  the  latter  in  a  way  of  which  we  are  wholly 
ignorant ;  and  that  it  holds  relations,  different  both  in  degree 
and  kind,  with  different  parts  of  the  organism.  We  have  no 
right,  however,  to  say  that  it  is  limited  to  any  one  part  of  the 
organism ;  for  even  if  we  admit  that  the  nervous  system  is  the 
part  to  which  it  is  proximately  united,  still  the  nervous  system 
is  itself  universally  ramified  throughout  the  body;  and  we 
have  no  more  right  to  deny  that  the  mind  feels  at  the  finger- 
points,  as  consciousness  assures  us,  than  to  assert  that  it  thinks 
exclusively  in  the  brain. 

The  sum  of  our  knowledge  of  the  connection  of  mind  and 
body  is,  therefore,  this,  —  that  the  mental  modifications  are  de- 
pendent on  certain  corporeal  conditions ;  but  of  the  nature  of 
these  conditions,  we  know  nothing.  For  example,  we  know, 
by  experience,  that  the  mind  perceives  only  through  certain 
organs  of  sense,  and  that,  through  these  different  organs,  it 
perceives  in  a  different  manner.  But  whether  the  senses  be 
instruments,  whether  they  be  media,  or  whether  they  be  only 
partial  outlets  to  the  mind  incarcerated  in  the  body,  —  on  all 
this,  we  can  only  theorize  and  conjecture.  We  have  no  reason 
whatever  to  believe,  contrary  to  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness, that  there  is  an  action  or  affection  of  the  bodily  sense 
previous  to  the  mental  perception ;  or  that  the  mind  only  per- 
ceives in  the  head,  in  consequence  of  the  impression  on  the 
organ.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  no  reason  whatever  to 
doubt  the  report  of  consciousness,  that  we  actually  perceive  at 
the  external  point  of  sensation,  and  that  we  perceive  the  mate- 
rial reality.  But  what  is  tneant  by  perceiving  the  material 
reality  .^ 

What  is  the  total  and  real  object  of  perception  ?  —  In  the  first 
place,  it  does  not  mean  that  we  perceive  the  material  reality  ab- 
solutely and  in  itself,  that  is,  out  of  relation  to  our  organs  and 
faculties  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  total  and  real  object  of  perception 
is  the  external  object  under  relation  to  our  sense  and  faculty  of 
cognition.  But  tliough  thus  relative  to  us,  the  object  is  still  no 
representation,  —  no  modification  of  the  Ego.   It  is  the  Non-ego, 


352     OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED. 

—  the  Non-ego  modified,  and  relative,  it  may  be,  but  still  the 
Non-ego.  I  formerly  illustrated  this  to  you  by  a  suppositicJn. 
Suppose  that  the  total  object  of  consciousness  in  perception  is 
=  12 ;  and  suppose  that  the  external  reality  contributes  6,  the 
material  sense  3,  and  the  mind  3  ;  —  this  may  enable  you  to 
form  some  rude  conjecture  of  the  nature  of  the  object  of  per- 
ception. 

What  is  the  external  object  perceived?  —  But,  in  the  second 
place,  what  is  meant  by  the  external  object  perceived  ?  Noth- 
ing can  be  conceived  more  ridiculous  than  the  opinion  of  philos- 
ophers in  regard  to  this.  For  exami)le,  it  has  been  curiously 
held  (and  Reid  is  no  exception),  that  in  looking  at  the  sun, 
moon,  or  any  other  object  of  sight,  we  are,  on  the  one  doctrine, 
actually  conscious  of  these  distant  objects  ;  or,  on  the  other,  that 
these  distant  objects  are  those  really  represented  in  the  mind. 
Nothing  can  be  more  absurd :  2ve  perceive,  through  no  sense, 
aught  external  hut  what  is  in  immediate  relation  and  in  immedi- 
ate contact  with  its  organ  ;  and  that  is  true  which  Democritus 
of  old  asserted,  that  all  our  senses  are  only  modijications  of  touch. 
Through  the  eye,  we  perceive  nothing  but  the  rays  of  light  in 
relation  to,  and  in  contact  with,  the  retina ;  what  we  add  to  this 
perception  must  not  be  taken  into  account.  The  same  is  true 
of  the  other  senses.* 

*  [It  is  incorrect  to  say  that  **  we  see  the  object/'  (meaning  the  thing 
from  which  the  rays  come  by  emanation  or  reflection,  but  whidi  is  unknown 
or  incognizable  by  sight,)  and  so  forth.  It  woukl  be  more  correct  to  de- 
scribe vision  as  a  perception  by  which  we  take  immediate  cognizance  of 
liglit  in  rehition  to  our  organ  —  that  is,  as  diffused  and  figured  upon  the  re- 
tina, under  various  modifications  of  degree  and  kind  (brightness  and  color) 

—  and  likewise  as  falling  upon  it  in  a  particular  direction.  The  image  on 
the  retina  is  not  itself  an  object  of  visual  perception.  It  is  only  to  be  re- 
garded as  tlie  complement  of  those  points,  or  of  that  sensitive  surface,  on 
which  the  rays  impinge,  and  with  which  tiiey  enter  into  relation.  Tlie  total 
object  of  visual  perception  is  thus,  neither  the  rays  in  themselves,  nor  the 
organ  in  itself,  but  the  rays  and  the  living  organ  in  reciprocity  ;  this  organ  is 
not,  however,  to  bo  viewed  as  merely  the  retina,  but  as  the  whole  tract  of 
nervous  fibre  pertaining  to  the  sense.  In  an  act  of  vision,  as  also  in  the 
other  sensitive  acts,  I  am  thus  conscious  (the  word  should  not  be  restricted 
to  self-consciousness),  or  immediately  cognizant,  not  only  of  the  affections  of 


.  OBJECTIONS  TO  NATURAL  REALISM  CONSIDERED.     353 

j  Now  what  is  there  monstrous  or  inconceivable  in  this  doctrine 

I  of  an  immediate  perception  ?  The  objects  are  neither  carried  into 
I  the  mind,  nor  the  mind  made  to  sally  out  to  them ;  nor  do  we 
require  a  miracle  to  justify  its  possibility.  In  fact,  the  con- 
sciousness of  external  objects,  on  this  doctrine,  is  not  more  in- 
conceivable than  the  consciousness  of  species  or  ideas  on  the 
doctrine  of  the  Schoolmen,  Malebranche,  or  Berkeley.  In  either 
case,  there  is  a  consciousness  of  the  Non-ego,  and,  in  either  case, 
the  Ego  and  Non-ego  are  in  intimate  relation.  There  is,  in  fact, 
on  this  hypothesis,  no  greater  marvel,  that  the  mind  should  be 
cognizant  of  the  external  reality,  than  that  it  should  be  con- 
nected with  a  body  at  all.  The  latter  being  the  case,  the  former 
is  not  even  improbable ;  all  inexplicable  as  both  equally  remain. 
"  We  are  unable,"  says  Pascal,  "  to  conceive  what  is  mind ;  we 
are  unable  to  conceive  what  is  matter ;  still  less  are  we  able  to 
conceive  how  these  are  united ;  —  yet  this  is  our  proper  nature." 
So  much  in  refutation  of  the  third  ground  of  difficulty  to  the 
doctrine  of  an  immediate  perception. 

The  fourth  ground  of  objection  is  that  of  Hume.  It  is  alleged 
by  him  in  the  sequel  of  the  paragraph  of  which  I  have  already 
quoted  to  you  [see  page  197]  the  commencement:  "This  uni- 
versal and  primary  opinion  of  all  men  is  soon  destroyed  by  the 
slightest  philosophy,  which  teaches  us,  that  nothing  can  ever  be 
present  to  the  mind  but  an  image  or  perception,  and  that  the 
senses  are  only  the  inlets,  through  which  these  images  are  con- 
veyed, without  being  ever  able  to  produce  any  immediate  inter- 
course between  the  mind  and  the  object.  The  table  which  we 
see,  seems  to  diminish,  as  we  remove  further  from  it :  but  the 

self,  but  of  the  phenomena  of  something  different  from  itself,  —  both,  how- 
ever, always  in  relation  to  each  other.  According  as,  in  different  senses, 
the  subjective  or  the  objective  element  preponderates,  we  have  sensation  or 
perception,  the  secondary  or  the  primarij  qualities  of  matter; — distinctions 
which  are  thus  identified  and  carried  up  into  a  general  law. 

It  is  wrong  to  say  that  "  a  body  is  smeUed  by  means  of  ejfluvia"  Nothing 
is  smelt  but  the  effluvia  themselves.  They  constitute  the  total  object  of 
perception  in  smell ;  and,  in  all  the  senses,  the  only  object  perceived  is  that 
in  immediate  contact  with  the  organ.     There  is,  in  reality,  no  medium  in 

any  sense.]  —  Notes  to  Reid. 

30* 


I  U 


354     OBJECTIONS  TO  NATUIiAL  KEALISM  CONSIDERED. 

real  table,  which  exists  intlej)eiulent  of  us,  suffers  no  aUeration : 
it  was,  tlierefore,  notliing  but  its  image,  which  was  present  to 
the  mind.  These  are  the  obvious  dictates  of  reason ;  and  no 
man,  wlio  reflects,  ever  doubted  that  the  existences,  which  we 
consider,  when  we  say  this  house,  and  that  tree,  are  nothing 
but  perceptions  in  the  mind,  and  fleeting  copies  or  represen- 
tations of  other  existences,  which  remain  uniform  and  inde- 
pendent." 

This  objection  to  the  veracity  of  consciousness  will  not  occa- 
sion us  much  trouble.  Its  refutation  is,  in  fact,  contained  in  the 
very  statement  of  the  real  external  object  of  perception.  The 
whole  argument  consists  in  a  mistake  of  what  that  object  is. 
That  a  thuig,  viewed  close  to  the  eye,  should  appear  larger  and 
differently  figured,  than  when  seen  at  a  distance,  and  that,  at  too 
great  a  distance,  it  should  even  become  for  us  invisible  altogether ; 
—  this  only  shows  that  what  clianges  the  real  object  of  sight,  — 
the  reflected  rays  in  contact  with  the  eye,  —  also  changes,  as  it 
ought  to  change,  our  perception  of  such  object.  This  ground 
of  difficulty  could  be  refuted  through  the  whole  senses ;  but  its 
weight  is  not  sufficient  to  entitle  it  to  any  further  consideration. 

The  Jifth  ground,  on  which  the  necessity  of  substituting  a 
representative  for  an  intuitive  perception  has  been  maintained, 
is  that  of  Fichte.  It  asserts  that  the  nature  of  the  Ego,  as  an 
intelligence  endowed  with  will,  makes  it  absolutely  necessary, 
tliat,  of  all  external  objects  of  perception,  there  should  be  rep- 
resentative modifications  in  the  mind.  For  as  the  Eiro  itself  is 
that  which  wills ;  therefore,  in  so  far  as  the  will  tends  towards 
objects,  these  must  lie  within  the  Ego.  An  external  reality 
cannot  lie  within  the  Ego ;  there  must,  therefore,  be  supposed, 
witliin  the  mind,  a  representation  of  this  reality  different  from 
the  reahty  itself. 

This  fifth  argument  involves  sundry  vices,  and  is  not  of  greater 
value  than  the  four  preceding.  In  XYiaJirst  place,  it  proceeds 
on  the  assertion,  that  the  objects  on  which  the  will  is  directed, 
must  lie  within  the  willing  Ego  itself.  But  how  is  this  assertion 
proved?  That  the  will  can  only  tend  toward  those  things  of 
wliich  the  Ego  has  itself  a  knowledge,  is  undoubtedly  true.     But 


'    I 


) 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED.        355 

from  this  it  does  not  follow,  that  the  object  to  which  the  knowl- 
edge is  relative,  must,  at  the  same  time,  be  present  with  it  in 
the  Ego ;  but  if  there  be  a  perceptive  cognition,  that  is,  a  con- 
sciousness of  some  object  external  to  the  Ego,  this  perception  is 
competent  to  excite,  and  to  direct,  the  will,  notwithstanding  that 
its  object  lies  without  the  Ego.  That,  therefore,  no  immediate 
knowledge  of  external  objects  is  possible,  and  that  conscious- 
ness is  exclusively  limited  to  the  Ego,  is  not  evinced  by  tliis  ar- 
gument of  Fichte,  but  simply  assumed. 

In  tlie  second  place,  this  argument  is  faulty,  in  that  it  takes  no 
account  of  the  difference  between  those  cognitions  which  lie  at 
the  root  of  the  energies  of  will,  and  the  other  kmds  of  knowl- 
edge. Thus,  our  will  never  tends  to  what  is  present,  —  to  what 
we  possess,  and  immediately  cognize ;  but  is  always  directed  on 
the  future,  and  is  concerned  either  with  the  continuance  of  those 
states  of  the  Ego  which  are  already  in  existence,  or  with  the 
production  of  wholly  novel  states.  But  the  future  cannot  be 
intuitively,  immediately,  perceived,  but  only  represented  and 
mediately  conceived.  That  a  mediate  cognition  is  necessary,  as 
the  condition  of  an  act  of  will,  —  this  does  not  prove  that  every 
cognition  must  be  mediate. 

We  have  thus  found  by  an  examination  of  the  various  grounds 
on  which  it  has  been  attempted  to  establish  the  necessity  of  re- 
jecting the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  the  intuitive  percep- 
tion of  the  external  world,  that  these  grounds  are,  one  and  all, 
incompetent.  I  shall  [now]  proceed  to  the  second,  section  of  the 
discussion,  —  to  consider  the  nature  of  the  hypothesis  of  Repre- 
sentation or  Cosmothetic  Idealism,  by  which  it  is  proposed  to 
replace  the  fact  of  consciousness  and  the  doctrine  of  Natural 
Realism  ;  and  shall  show  you  that  this  hypothesis,  though,  under 
various  modifications,  adopted  in  almost  every  system  of  philos- 
ophy, fulfils  none  of  the  conditions  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis. 

The  hypothesis  unnecessary.  —  In  the  jirst  place,  from  the 
grounds  on  which  the  Cosmothetic  Ideahst  would  vindicate  the 
necessity  of  his  rejection  of  the  datum  of  consciousness,  the 
hypothesis  itself  is  unnecessary.  The  examination  of  these 
grounds  proves,  that  the  fact  of  consciousness  is  not  shown  to 


\ 


356 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED. 


I   } 

)l 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED. 


357 


be  impossible.  So  far,  therefore,  there  is  no  necessity  made  out 
for  its  rejection.  But  it  is  said  the  fact  of  consciousness  is  in- 
explicable ;  we  cannot  understand  hoiv  the  immediate  perception 
of  an  external  object  is  possible :  whereas  the  hypothesis  of  rep- 
resentation enables  us  to  comprehend  and  explain  the  phtenom- 
enon,  and  is,  therefore,  if  not  absolutely  necessary,  at  least 
entitled  to  favor  and  preference.  But  even  on  this  lower,  — 
this  precarious  ground,  the  hypothesis  is  absolutely  unnecessary. 
That,  on  the  incomprehensibiHty  of  the  fact  of  consciousness,  it 
is  allowable  to  displace  the  fact  by  an  hypothesis,  is  of  all  ab- 
surdities the  greatest.  As  a  fact,  —  an  ultimate  fact  of  con- 
sciousness, it  must  be  incomprehensible  ;  and  were  it  compre- 
hensible, that  is,  did  we  know  it  in  its  causes,  —  did  we  know  it 
as  contained  in  some  higher  notion,  —  it  would  not  be  a  primary 
fact  of  consciousness,  —  it  would  not  be  an  ultimate  datum  of 
intelligence.  Eveiy  how  (8i6ri)  rests  ultimately  on  a  that  {oil)  ; 
every  demonstration  is  deduced  from  something  given  and  inde- 
monstrable ;  all  that  is  comprehensible  hangs  from  some  revealed* 
fact,  which  we  must  believe  as  actual,  but  cannot  construe  to  the 
reflective  intellect  in  its  possibility.  In  consciousness,  in  the 
original  spontaneity  of  intelligence  (vovg,  locus  principiorum), 
are  revealed  the  primordial  facts  of  our  intelligent  nature. 

But  the  Cosmothetic  Idealist  has  no  right  to  ask  the  Natural 
ReaUst  for  an  explanation  of  tlie  fact  of  consciousness  ;  suppos- 
ing even  that  his  own  hypothesis  were,  in  itself,  both  clear  and 
probable,  —  supposing  that  the  consciousness  of  self  were  intel- 
lijrible,  and  the  consciousness  of  the  not-self  the  reverse.  For, 
on  this  supposition,  the  intelligible  consciousness  of  self  could 
not  be  an  ultimate  fact,  but  must  be  comprehended  tlirough  a 
higher  cognition,  —  a  higher  consciousness,  which  would  again 
be  itself  either  comprehensible  or  not.  If  comprehensible,  this 
would,  of  course,  require  a  still  higher  cognition,  and  so  on,  till 
we  arrive  at  some  datum  of  intelligence,  which,  as  highest,  we 

-*  This  expression  is  not  meant  to  imply  any  thing  hypcrphysical.  It  is 
used  to  denote  the  ultimate  and  incomprehensible  nature  of  the  fact,  —  of 
the  fact  which  must  bo  believed,  though  it  cannot  be  understood,  —  cannot 
be  explained. 


could  not  understand  through  a  higher ;  so  that,  at  best,  the  hy- 
potliesis  of  representation,  proposed  in  place  of  the  fact  of  con- 
sciousness, only  removes  the  difficulty  by  one  or  two  steps.  The 
end  to  be  gained  is  thus  of  no  value;  and,  for  this  end,  as  we 
(  have  seen  and  shall  see,  there  would  be  sacrificed  the  possibility 
'  of  pliilosophy  as  a  rational  knowledge  altogether ;  and,  in  the 
possibility  of  philosophy,  of  course,  the  possibility  of  the  very 
hypothesis  itself. 

The  hypothesis  not  more  {ntelligihle  than  the  fact.  —  But  is  the 
I  j    I    I  i     hypothesis  really,  in  itself,  a  whit  more  intelligible  than  the  fact 
which  it  displaces  ?     The  reverse  is  true.     What  does  the  hy- 
)    I  pothesis  suppose  ?     It  supposes  that  the  mind  can  represent  that 

of  which  it  knows  nothing,  —  that  of  which  it  is  ignorant.  Is 
this  more  comprehensible  than  the  simple  fact,  that  the  mind 
immediately  knows  what  is  different  from  itself,  and  what  is 
really  an  affection  of  the  bodily  organism  ?  It  seems,  in  truth, 
not  only  incomprehensible,  but  contradictory.  The  hypothesis 
of  a  representative  perception  thus  violates  the  first  condition  of 
a  legitimate  hypothesis,  —  it  is  unnecessary;  —  nay,  not  only 
unnecessary,  it  cannot  do  what  it  professes,  —  it  explains  nothing, 
it  renders  nothing  comprehensible. 

The  second  condition  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis  is,  that  it  shall 
not  subvert  that  which  it  is  devised  to  explain  ;  —  that  it  shall  not 
explode  the  system  of  which  it  forms  a  part.  But  this,  the  hy- 
pothesis in  question  does ;  it  annihilates  itself  in  the  destruction 
of  the  whole  edifice  of  knowledge.  Belying  the  testimony  of 
consciousness  to  our  immediate  perception  of  an  outer  world,  it 
belies  the  veracity  of  consciousness  altogether ;  and  the  truth  of 
consciousness  is  the  condition  of  the  possibiUty  of  all  knowledge. 
The  third  condition  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis  is,  that  the  fact 
or  facts^  in  explanation  of  which  it  is  devised,  be  ascertained 
really  to  exist,  and  be  not  themselves  hypothetical.  But  so  far 
is  the  principal  fact,  wliich  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative 
perception  is  proposed  to  explain,  from  being  certain,  that  its 
reality  is  even  rendered  problematical  by  the  proposed  expla- 
nation itself.  The  facts  which  this  hypothesis  supposes  to  be 
ascertained  and  established  are  two  — first,  the  fact  of  an  external 


358    THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED. 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED.    359 


world  existing ;  second,  the  fact  of  an  internal  world  knowing. 
These  the  hypothesis  tiikes  for  granted.  For  it  is  asked,  How 
are  these  connected  ?  —  How  can  the  internal  world  know  the 
external  world  existing  ?  And,  in  answer  to  this  problem,  the 
hypothesis  of  representation  is  advanced  as  explaining  the  mode 
of  their  correlation.  This  hypothesis  denies  the  immediate 
connection  of  the  two  facts ;  it  denies  that  the  mind,  the  inter- 
nal world,  can  be  immediately  cognizant  of  matter,  the  external ; 
and  between  the  two  worlds  it  interpolates  a  representation, 
which  is  at  once  the  object  known  by  mind,  and  as  known,  an 
image  vicarious  or  representative  of  matter,  ex  hypothesis  in 
itself  unknown. 

The  procedure  vicious,  —  But  mark  the  vice  of  the  procedure. 
We  can  only,  1°,  Assert  the  existence  of  an  external  world, 
inasmuch  as  we  know  it  to  exist ;  and  we  can  only,  2°,  Assert 
that  one  thing  is  representative  of  another,  inasmuch  as  the 
thing  represented  is  known  independently  of  the  representation. 
But  how  does  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception 
proceed  ?  It  actually  converts  the  fact  into  an  hypothesis ; 
actually  converts  the  hypothesis  into  a  fact.  On  this  theory, 
we  do  not  know  the  existence  of  an  external  world,  except  on 
the  supposition  that  that  which  we  do  know,  truly  represents 
it  as  existing.  The  Hypothetical  Realist  cannot,  therefore, 
establish  the  fact  of  the  external  world,  except  upon  the 
fact  of  its  representation.  This  is  manifest.  We  have,  there- 
fore, next  to  ask  liim,  how  he  knows  the  fact,  that  the  ex- 
ternal world  is  actually  represented.  A  representation  supposes 
something  represented,  and  the  representation  of  the  external 
world  supposes  the  existence  of  that  world.  Now,  the  Hypo- 
thetical Realist,  when  asked  how  he  proves  the  reality  of  the 
outer  world,  which,  ex  hypothesis  he  does  not  know,  can  only 
say  that  he  infers  its  existence  from  the  fact  of  its  representation. 
But  the  fact  of  the  representation  of  an  external  world  sup- 
poses the  existence  of  that  world ;  therefore,  he  is  again  at  the 
point  from  which  he  started.  He  has  been  arguing  in  a  circle. 
There  is  thus  a  see-saw  between  the  hypothesis  and  the  fact ; 
the  fact  is  assumed  as  an  hypothesis ;  the  hypothesis  explained 


/| 


It 


as  a  fact ;  each  is  established,  each  is  expounded,  by  the  other. 
To  account  for  the  possibiHty  of  an  unkno^vn  external  world, 
the  hypothesis  of  representation  is  devised ;  and  to  account  for 
the  possibility  of  representation,  we  imagine  the  hypothesis  of 
an  external  world. 

The  Cosmothetic  Idealist  thus  begs  the  fact  which  he  would 
explain.  And,  on  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception, 
it  is  admitted  by  the  philosophers  themselves  who  hold  it,  that 
the  descent  to  absolute  Idealism  is  a  logical  precipice,  from 
which  they  can  alone  attempt  to  save  themselves  by  appealing 

to  the  natural  beliefs,  to  the  common  sense,  of  mankind, that 

is,  to  the  testimony  of  that  very  consciousness  to  which  their  own 
hypothesis  gives  the  lie. 

The  hypothesis  subverts  the  phcenomenon  to  he  explained. 

In  the  fourth  place,  a  legitimate  hypothesis  must  save  the  phe- 
nomena which  it  is  invented  to  explain  ;  that  is,  it  must  account 
for  them  adequately  and  without  exclusion,  distortion,  or  muti- 
lation. But  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception  pro- 
poses to  accomplish  its  end  only  by  first  destroying,  and  then 
attempting  to  recreate,  the  pha^nomena,  for  the  fact  of  which  it 
should,  as  a  legitimate  hypothesis,  only  afford  a  reason.  The 
total,  the  entire  phaanomenon  to  be  explained,  is  the  phsenom- 
enon  given  in  consciousness  of  the  immediate  knowledge  by 
me,  or  mind,  of  an  existence  different  from  me,  or  mind.  This 
phajnomenon,  however,  the  hypothesis  in  question  does  not 
preserve  entire.  On  the  contrary,  it  hews  it  into  two  ;  — into 
the  immediate  knowledge  by  me,  and  into  the  existence  of 
something  different  from  me ;  —  or  more  briefly,  into  the  intuition 
and  the  existence.  It  separates,  in  its  explanation,  what  is  given 
it  to  explain  as  united.  This  procedure  is,  at  best,  monstrous  ; 
but  this  is  not  the  worst.  The  entire  phcenomenon  being  cut  in 
two,  you  ^vill  observe  how  the  fragments  are  treated.  The 
existence  of  the  Non-ego, —. the  one  fragment,  it  admits;  its 
intuition,  its  immediate  cognition  by  the  Ego,  —  the  other  fra*'- 
ment,  it  disallows.  Now  mark  what  is  the  character  of  this 
proceeding.  The  former  fragment  of  the  phsenomenon,  —  the 
fragment  admitted,  to  us  exists  only  through  the  other  fragment 


l| 


360        THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED. 

which  is  rejected.  The  existence  of  an  external  world  is  only 
given  us  through  its  intuition ;  — we  only  believe  it  to  exist 
because  we  believe  that  we  immediately  know  it  to  exist,  or  are 
conscious  of  it  as  existing.  The  intuition  is  the  ratio  cognos- 
cendi,  and,  therefore,  to  us  the  ratio  essendi,  of  a  material 
universe.  Prove  to  me  that  I  am  wrong  in  regard  to  my 
intuition  of  an  outer  world,  and  I  will  grant  at  once,  that  I 
have  no  ground  for  supposing  I  am  right  in  regard  to  the 
existence  of  that  world.  To  annihilate  the  intuition,  is  to  anni- 
hilate what  is  prior  and  constitutive  in  the  phoenomenon ;  and 
to  annihilate  what  is  prior  and  constitutive  in  the  phenomenon, 
is  to  annihilate  the  phainomenon  altogether.  The  existence  of 
a  material  world  is  no  longer,  therefore,  even  a  truncated, 
even  a  fractional,  fact  of  consciousness;  for  the  fact  of  the 
existence  of  a  material  world,  given  in  consciousness,  neces- 
sarily vanished  with  the  fact  of  the  intuition  on  which  it  rested. 
The  absurdity  is  about  the  same  as  if  we  should  attempt  to 
explain  the  existence  of  color,  on  an  hypothesis  which  denied 
the  existence  of  extension.  A  representative  perception  is  thus 
an  hypothetical  explanation  of  a  supposititious  fact ;  it  creates 
the  nature  it  interprets.* 

In  tlie  ffth  place,  the  fact  which  a  legitimate  hypothesis  ex- 
plains, must  be  within  the  sphere  of  experience  ;  but  the  fact  of 
an  external  world,  for  which  the  Cosmothetic  IdeaHst  would 
account,  transcends,  ex  hypothesis  all  experience,  being  unknown 
in  itself,  and  a  mere  hyperpliysical  assumption. 

The  hypothesis  must  be  single.  —  In  the  sixth  place,  an  hypoth- 
esis is  probable  in  proportion  as  it  works  simply  and  naturally ; 
that  is,  in  proportion  as  it  is  dependent  on  no  subsidiary  hypothe- 

*  [With  the  Hypothetical  Realist  or  Cosmothetic  Idealist,  it  has  been  a 
puzzling  problem  to  resolve  how,  on  their  doctrine  of  a  representative  percep- 
tion, the  mind  can  attain  the  notion  of  externality,  or  outness,  —  for  more, 
be  impressed  with  the  invincible  belief  of  the  reality,  and  known  reality,  of 
an  external  world.  Their  attempts  at  this  solution  are  as  unsatisfactory 
as  they  are  operose.  On  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception,  all  this  is 
given  in  the  fact  of  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  Non-ego.  To  us, 
therefore,  the  problem  does  not  exist.  1 


< 

i 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED.        361 

sis,  —  as  it  involves  nothing  petitory,  occult,  supernatural,  as 
part  and  parcel  of  its  explanation.  In  this  respect,  the  doctrine 
of  a  representative  perception  is  not  less  vicious  than  in  others ; 
to  explain  at  all,  it  must  not  only  postulate  subsidiary  hypothe- 
ses, but  subsidiary  miracles.  The  doctrine  in  question  attempts 
to  explain  the  knowledge  of  an  unknown  world,  by  the  ratio 
of  a  representative  perception :  but  it  is  impossible,  by  any 
conceivable  relation,  to  apply  the  ratio  to  the  facts.  The  mental 
modification,  of  which,  on  the  doctrine  of  representation,  we 
are  exclusively  conscious  in  perception,  either  represents  a  real 
external  world,  or  it  does  not.  The  latter  is  a  confession 
of  absolute  Idealism ;  we  have,  therefore,  only  to  consider  the 
former. 

The  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception  supposes,  that 
the  mind  does  not  know  the  external  world,  which  it  represents ; 
for  this  hypothesis  is  expressly  devised  only  on  the  supposed 
impossibility  of  an   immediate  knowledge   of  aught   different 
from,  and  external  to,  the  mind.     The  percipient  mind  must, 
therefore,  be,  somehow  or  other,  determined  to  represent  the 
reality  of  which  it  is  ignorant.     Now,  here  one  of  two  alterna- 
tives is  necessary  ;  —  either  the  mind  blindly  determines  itself 
to  this  representation,  or  it  is  determined  to  it  by  some  intelH- 
gent  and  knowing  cause   different   from   itself.      The  former 
alternative  would  be  preferable,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  more^ 
simple,  imd  assumes  nothing  hyperphysical,  were  it  not  irrational, 
as  wholly  incompetent  to  account  for  the  phsenomenon.     On  this 
alternative,  we  should  suppose,  that  the  mind  represented,  and 
truly  represented,  that  of  whose  existence  and  qualities  it  knew 
nothing.     A  great  effect  is  here  assumed,  absolutely  without  a 
cause  ;    for  we  could   as  easily  conceive    the  external  world 
springing  into  existence  without  a  Creator,  as  mind  representing 
that  external  world  to  itself  without  a  knowledge  of  that  which  it 
represented.     The  manifest  absurdity  of  this  first  alternative  has 
accordingly  constrained  the  profoundest  Cosmothetic  Idealists 
to  call  in  supernatural  aid  by  embracing  the  second.     To  say 
nothing  of  less  illustrious  schemes,  the  systems  of  Divine  Assist- 
ance, of  a  Preestablished  Harmony,  and  of  the  Vision  of  all 

31 


362 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  HYPOTHESIS  REFUTED. 


tilings  in  the  Deity,  are  only  so  many  subsidiary  hypotheses ;  — 
so  many  attempts  to  bridge,  by  supernatural  machinery,  the 
chasm  between  the  representation  and  the  reality,  wliich  all 
human  ingenuity  had  found,  by  natural  means,  to  be  insuperable. 
The  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception  thus  presupposes 
a  miracle  to  let  it  work.  Dr.  Brown  and  others,  indeed,  reject, 
as  unphilosophical,  these  hyperphysical  subsidiaries ;  but  they 
only  saw  less  clearly  the  necessity  for  their  admission.  The 
rejection,  indeed,  is  another  inconsequence  added  to  their  doc- 
trine. It  is  undoubtedly  true  that,  without  necessity,  it  is 
unphilosophical  to  assume  a  miracle ;  but  it  is  doubly  unphilo- 
sophical first  to  originate  this  necessity,  and  then  not  to  submit 
to  it.  It  is  a  contemptible  philosophy  that  eschews  the  Deus  ex 
machina^  and  yet  ties  the  knot  which  can  only  be  loosed  by  his 
interposition.  Nor  will  it  here  do  for  the  Cosmothetic  Idealist 
to  pretend  that  the  difficulty  is  of  nature's,  not  of  his,  creation. 
In  fact,  it  only  arises,  because  he  has  closed  his  eyes  upon  the 
light  of  nature,  and  refused  the  guidance  of  consciousness  :  but 
having  swamped  himself  in  following  the  ignis  fatuus  of  a 
theory,  he  has  no  right  to  refer  its  private  absurdities  to  the 
imbecility  of  human  reason,  or  to  excuse  his  self-contracted 
ignorance  by  the  narrow  limits  of  our  present  knowledge. 

So  much  for  the  merits  of  the  hypothesis  of  a  Representative 
'Perception,  —  an  hypothesis  which  begins  by  denying  the 
veracity  of  consciousness,  and  ends,  when  carried  to  its  legiti- 
mate issue,  in  absolute  Idealism,  in  utter  Scepticism.  This  hy- 
pothesis has  been,  and  is,  one  more  universally  prevalent  among 
philosophers  than  any  other ;  and  I  have  given  to  its  consider- 
ation a  larger  share  of  attention  than  I  should  otherwise  have 
done,  in  consequence  of  its  being  one  great  source  of  the  dis- 
sensions in  philosophy,  and  of  the  opprobrium  thrown  on  con- 
sciousness as  the  instrument  of  philosophical  observation  and 
the  standard  of  philosophical  certainty  and  truth. 


CHAPTER    XX. 


THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY.  -  GENERAL  QUESTIONS  RE- 
LATING TO  THE  SENSES.  -  PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND 
TOUCH. 

With  this  terminates  the  most  important  of  the  discussions 
to  which  the  Faculty  of  Perception  gives  rise  :  the  other  ques- 
tions are  not,  however,  without  interest,  though  their  determin- 
ation does  not  affect  the  vital  interests  of  philosophy. 

Whether  we  Jirst  obtain  a  hioicledge  of  the  whole,  or  of  the 
parts.  —  Of  these  the  first  that  I  shall  touch  upon  is  the  problem, 
—  Whether,  in  Perception,  do  we  first  obtain  a  general  knowl- 
edge of  the  complex  wholes  presented  to  us  by  sense,  and  then, 
by  analysis  and  limited  attention,  obtain  a  special  knowledge  of 
their  several  parts ;  or  do  we  not  first  obtain  a  particular  knowl- 
edge of  the  smallest  parts  to  which  sense  is   competent,  and 
then,  by  synthesis,  collect  them  into  greater  and  greater  wholes  ? 
The  second  alternative  in  this  question  is  adopted  by  Mr. 
Stewart ;  it  is,  indeed,  involved  in  his  doctrine  in  regard  to  At- 
tention,—  in  holding  that  we  recollect  nothing  without  attention, 
that  we  can  attend  only  to  a  single  object  at  once,  which  one 
object  is  the  very  smallest  that  is  discernible  through  sense. 
He  says  [see  pp.  162,  163],  that,  in  a  concert  of  music,  "the 
mind  is  constantly  varying  its  attention  from  the  one  part  of 
the  music  to  the  other,  and  that  its  operations  are  so  rapid  as 
to  give  us  no  perception  of  an  interval  of  time." 

"  The  same  doctrine  leads  to  some  curious  conclusions  with 
respect  to  vision.  It  is  impossible  for  the  mind  to  attend  to 
more  than  one  of  the  points  [in  the  outline  of  an  object]  at 
once ;  and  as  the  perception  of  the  figure  of  the  object  implies 

(363) 


Ml 


III 


364 


QUESTIONS  RESPECTING  THE  SENSES. 


a  knowledge  of  the  relative  situation  of  the  different  points 
with  respect  to  each  other,  we  must  conclude,  that  the  percep- 
tion of  figure  by  the  eye  is  the  result  of  a  number  of  different 
acts  of  attention.  These  acts  of  attention,  however,  are  per- 
formed with  such  rapidity,  that  the  effect  with  respect  to  us,  is 
the  same  as  if  the  perception  were  instantaneous.  If  these 
observations  be  admitted,  it  will  follow,  that,  without  the  fticulty 
of  memory,  we  could  have  had  no  perception  of  visible  figure." 

Mt'irs  doctrine  of  Association.  —  The  same  conclusion  is  at- 
tained, through  a  somewhat  different  process,  by  Mr.  James 
Mill.  This  author,  following  Hartley  and  Priestley,  has  pushed 
the  principle  of  Association  to  an  extreme  wliich  refutes  its  own 
exaggeration,  —  analyzing  not  only  our  belief  in  the  relation  of 
effect  and  cause  into  that  principle,  but  even  the  primary  logi- 
cal laws.  According  to  Mr.  Mill,  the  necessity  under  which 
we  lie  of  thinking  that  one  contradictory  excludes  another,  — 
that  a  thing  cannot  at  once  be  and  not  be,  is  only  the  result  of 
association  and  custom.  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  marvelled  at, 
that  he  should  account  for  our  knowledge  of  complex  wholes  in 
perception  by  the  same  universal  principle ;  and  this  he  accord- 
ingly does.  "  Where  two  or  more  ideas  have  been  often  re- 
peated together,  and  the  association  has  become  very  strong, 
they  sometimes  spring  up  in  such  close  combination  as  not  to  be 
distinguishable.  Some  cases  of  sensiition  are  analogous.  For 
example ;  when  a  wheel,  on  the  seven  parts  of  which  the  seven 
prismatic  colors  are  respectively  painted,  is  made  to  revolve 
rapidly,  it  appears  not  of  seven  colors,  but  of  one  uniform  color, 
white.  By  the  rapidity  of  the  succession,  the  several  sensations 
cease  to  be  distinguishable  ;  they  run,  as  it  were,  together,  and 
a  new  sensation,  compounded  of  «all  the  seven,  but  apparently  a 
simple  one,  is  the  result.  Ideas,  also,  which  have  been  so  often 
conjoined,  that  whenever  one  exists  in  the  mind,  the  others  im- 
mediately exist  along  with  it,  seem  to  run  into  one  another,  to 
coalesce,  as  it  were,  and  out  of  many  to  form  one  idea ;  which 
idea,  however  in  reality  complex,  appears  to  be  no  less  simple 
than  any  one  of  those  of  which  it  is  compounded." 

"  It  is  to  this  jxreat  law  of  Association  that  we  trace  the  for- 


QUESTIONS  RESPECTING  THE  SENSES. 


365 


mation  of  our  ideas  of  what  we  call  external  objects ;  that  is,  the 
ideas  of  a  certain  number  of  sensations,  received  together  so 
frequently  that  they  coalesce  as  it  were,  and  are  spoken  of  under 
the  idea  of  unity.  Hence,  what  we  call  the  idea  of  a  tree,  the 
idea  of  a  stone,  the  idea  of  a  horse,  the  idea  of  a  man. 

*'  In  using  the  names,  tree,  horse,  man,  the  names  of  what  I 
call  objects,  I  am  referring,  and  can  be  referring,  only  to  my 
own  sensations ;  in  fact,  therefore,  only  naming  a  certain  num- 
ber of  sensations,  regarded  as  in  a  particular  state  of  combina- 
tion ;  that  is,  concomitance.  Particular  sensations  of  sight,  of 
touch,  of  the  muscles,  are  the  sensations,  to  the  ideas  of  which, 
color,  extension,  roughness,  hardness,  smoothness,  taste,  smell, 
so  coalescing  as  to  appear  one  idea,  I  give  the  name,  idea  of  a 
tree." 

"  Some  ideas  are,  by  frequency  and  strength  of  association,  so 
closely  combined,  that  they  cannot  be  separated.  If  one  exists, 
the  other  exists  along  with  it,  in  spite  of  whatever  effort  we 
make  to  disjoin  them. 

"  For  example ;  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  think  of  color,  with- 
out thinking  of  extension ;  or  of  solidity,  without  figure.  We 
have  seen  color  constantly  in  combination  with  extension, — 
spread,  as  it  were,  upon  a  surface.  We  have  never  seen  it  except 
in  this  connection.  Color  and  extension  have  been  invariably  con- 
joined. The  idea  of  color,  therefore,  uniformly  comes  into  the 
mind,  bringing  that  of  extension  along  with  it ;  and  so  close  is 
the  association,  that  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  dissolve  it.  We 
cannot,  if  we  will,  think  of  color,  but  in  combination  with  exten- 
sion. The  one  idea  calls  up  the  other,  and  retains  it,  so  long  as 
the  other  is  retained." 

This  doctrine  implies  that  we  know  the  parts  better  than  the 
whole.  —  Now,  in  opposition  to  this  doctrine,  nothing  appears  to 
me  clearer  than  the  first  alternative,  —  and  that,  in  place  of  as- 
cending upwards  from  the  minimum  of  perception  to  its  maxi- 
ma, we  descend  from  masses  to  details.  If  the  opposite  doctrine 
were  correct,  what  would  it  involve  ?  It  would  involve,  as  a 
primary  inference,  that,  as  we  know  the  whole  through  the  parts, 
we  should  know  the  parts  better  than  the  whole.     Thus,  for  ex- 

31* 


366 


QUESTIONS   IlESPECTING  THE  SENSES. 


THE    SENSE  OF  TOUCH. 


367 


ample,  it  is  supposed  that  we  know  the  face  of  a  friend  through 
the  multitude  of  perceptions  which  we  have  of  the  different 
points  of  which  it  is  made  up ;  in  other  words,  that  we  should 
know  the  whole  countenance  less  vividly  than  we  know  the 
forehead  and  eyea,  the  nose  and  mouth,  etc.,  and  that  we  should 
know  each  of  these  more  feebly  than  we  know  the  various  ulti- 
mate points,  in  fact,  unconscious  minima,  of  perceptions,  which 
go  to  constitute  them.  According  to  the  doctrine  in  question, 
we  perceive  only  one  of  these  ultimate  points  at  the  same  in- 
stant, the  others  by  memory  incessantly  renewed.  Now  let  us 
take  the  face  out  of  perception  into  memory  altogether.  Let 
us  close  our  eyes,  and  let  us  represent  in  imagination  the  coun- 
tenance of  our  friend.  This  we  can  do  with  the  utmost  vivac- 
ity ;  or,  if  we  see  a  picture  of  it,  we  can  determine,  with  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  most  perfect  accuracy,  that  the  portrait  is  like 
or  unlike.  It  cannot,  therefore,  be  denied  that  we  have  the 
fullest  knowledge  of  the  face  as  a  whole,  —  that  we  are  familiar 
with  its  expression,  with  the  general  result  of  its  parts.  On  the 
hypothesis,  then,  of  Stewart  and  Mill,  how  accurate  should  be 
our  knowledge  of  these  parts  themselves.  But  make  the  exper- 
iment. You  will  find  that,  unless  you  have  analyzed,  —  unless 
you  have  descended  from  a  conspectus  of  the  whole  face  to  a 
detailed  examination  of  its  parts,  —  with  a  most  vivid  impres- 
sion of  the  constituted  whole,  you  are  almost  totally  ignorant  of 
the  constituent  parts.  You  may  probably  be  unable  to  say  what 
is  the  color  of  the  eyes,  and  if  you  attempt  to  delineate  the 
mouth  or  nose,  you  will  inevitably  fail.  Or  look  at  the  portrait. 
You  may  find  it  unlike,  but  unless,  as  I  said,  you  have  analyzed 
the  countenance,  unless  you  have  looked  at  it  with  the  analytic 
scrutiny  of  a  painter's  eye,  you  will  assuredly  be  unable  to  say 
in  what  respect  the  artist  has  failed ;  —  you  will  be  unable  to 
specify  what  constituent  he  has  altered,  though  you  are  fully 
conscious  of  the  fact  and  effect  of  the  alteration.  What  we 
have  shown  from  this  example  may  equally  be  done  from  any 
other,  —  a  house,  a  tree,  a  landscape,  a  concert  of  music,  etc. 
But  it  is  needless  to  multiply  illustrations.  In  fact,  on  the  doc- 
trine of  these  philosophers,  if  the  mind,  as  they  maintain,  w^ere 


h 


unable  to  comprehend  more  than  one  perceptible  minimum  at  a 
time,  the  greatest  of  all  inconceivable  marvels  would  be,  how  it 
has  contrived  to  realize  the  knowledge  of  wholes  and  masses 
which  it  has.  Another  refutation  of  this  opinion  might  be 
drawn  from  the  doctrine  of  latent  modifications,  —  the  obscure 
perceptions  of  Leibnitz,  —  of  which  we  have  recently  treated. 
But  this  argument  I  think  unnecessaiy. 

Resuming  consideration  of  the  more  important  psychological 
questions  that  have  been  agitated  concerning  the  Senses,  I  pro- 
ceed to  take  up  those  connected  with  the  sense  of  Touch.  The 
problems  which  arise  under  this  sense  may  be  reduced  to  two 
opposite  questions.  The  first  asks.  May  not  all  the  Senses  be 
analyzed  into  Touch?  The  second  asks.  Is  not  Touch  or 
Feeling,  considered  as  one  of  the  five  senses,  itself  only  a  bun- 
dle of  various  senses? 

Mai/  all  the  Senses  be  analyzed  into  Touch  ?  —  In  regard  to 
the  first  of  these  questions, — it  is  an  opinion  as  old  at  least  as 
Democritus,  and  one  held  by  many  of  the  ancient  physiologists, 
that  the  four  senses  of  Sight,  Hearing,  Taste,  and  Smell  are 
only  modifications  of  Touch.  This  opinion  Ai-istotle  records  in 
the  fourth  chapter  of  his  book  On  Sense  and  the  Object  of 
Sejiscy  and  contents  himself  with  refuting  it  by  the  assertion 
that  its  impossibility  is  manifest.  So  far,  however,  from  being 
manifestly  impossible,  and,  therefore,  manifestly  absui-d,  it  can 
now  easily  be  shown  to  be  correct,  if  by  Touch  is  understood  the 
contact  of  the  external  object  of  perception  with  the  organ  of 
sense.  The  opinion  of  Democritus  was  revived,  in  modern 
times,  by  Telesius,  an  Italian  philosopher  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, and  who  preceded  Bacon  and  Descartes,  as  a  reformer  of 
philosophical  methods.  I  say  the  opinion  of  Democritus  can 
easily  be  shown  to  be  correct ;  for  it  is  only  a  confusion  of  ideas, 
or  of  words,  or  of  both  together,  to  talk  of  the  perception  of  a 
distant  object,  that  is,  of  an  object  not  in  relation  to  our  senses. 
An  external  object  is  only  perceived  inasmuch  as  it  is  in  rela- 
tion to  our  sense,  and  it  is  only  in  relation  to  our  sense  inasmuch 
as  it  is  present  to  it.  To  say,  for  example,  that  we  perceive  by 
sight  the  sun  or  moon,  is  a  false  or  an  elliptical  expression.     We 


368 


THE  SENSE  OF  TOUCH. 


THE  SENSE  OF  TOUCH. 


perceive  nothing  but  certain  modifications  of  liglit  in  immediate 
relation  to  our  organ  of  vision ;  and  so  far  from  Dr.  Reid  being 
philosophically  correct,  when  he  says  that  "  when  ten  men  look 
at  the  sun  or  moon,  they  a-U  see  the  same  individual  object,"  the 
truth  is,  that  each  of  these  persons  sees  a  different  object, 
because  each  person  sees  a  different  complement  of  rays,  iu 
relation  to  his  individual  organ.  In  fact,  if  we  look  alternately 
with  each,  we  have  a  different  object  in  our  right,  and  a  differ- 
ent object  in  our  left,  eye.  It  is  not  by  perception,  but  by  a 
process  of  reasoning,  that  we  connect  the  objects  of  sense  with 
existences  beyond  the  sphere  of  immediate  knowledge.  It  is 
enough  that  perception  affords  us  the  knowledge  of  the  Non-ego 
at  the  point  of  sense.  To  arrogate  to  it  the  power  of  immedi- 
ately informing  us  of  external  things,  which  are  only  the  causes 
of  the  object  we  immediately  perceive,  is  either  positively  erro- 
neous, or  a  confusion  of  language,  arising  from  an  inadequate 
discrimination  of  the  phaenomena.  Such  assumptions  tend  only 
to  throw  discredit  on  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception  ; 
and  such  assumptions  you  will  find  scattered  over  the  works  both 
of  Reid  and  Stewart.  I  would,  therefore,  establish  as  a  funda- 
mental position  of  the  doctrine  of  an  immediate  perception,  the 
opinion  of  Democritus,  that  all  our  senses  are  only  modifications 
of  touch ;  in  other  words,  that  the  external  object  of  perception 
is  always  in  contact  with  the  organ  of  sense. 

Does  Touch  comprehend  a  plurality  of  senses  ?  —  This  deter- 
mination of  the  first  problem  does  not  interfere  with  the  con- 
sideration of  the  second ;  for,  in  the  second,  it  is  only  asked, 
Whether,  considering  Touch  or  Feeling  as  a  special  sense,  there 
are  not  comprehended  under  it  varieties  of  perception  and 
sensation  so  different,  that  these  varieties  ought  to  be  viewed  as 
constituting  so  many  special  senses.  This  question,  I  think, 
ought  to  be  answered  in  the  affirmative ;  for,  though  I  hold 
that  the  other  senses  are  not  to  be  discriminated  from  Touch,  in 
so  far  as  Touch  signifies  merely  the  contact  of  the  organ  and 
the  object  of  perception,  yet,  considering  Touch  as  a  special 
sense  distinguished  from  the  other  four  by  other  and  peculiar 
characters,  it  may  easily,  I  think,  be  shown,  that  if  Sight  and 


K 


369 


Hearing,  if  Smell  and  Taste,  are  to  be  divided  from  each  other 
and  from  Touch  Proper,  under  Touch  there  must,  on  the  same 
analogy,  be  distinguished  a  plurality  of  special  senses.  Tliis 
problem,  like  the  other,  is  of  ancient  date.  It  is  mooted  by 
Aristotle  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  the  second  book  De  Anima, 
but  his  opinion  is  left  doubtful.  Among  modern  philosophers, 
Cardan  distinguishes  four  senses  of  touch  or  feeling;  one,  of 
the  four  primary  tactile  qualities  of  Aristotle  (that  is,  of  cold 
and  hot,  and  wet  and  dry)  ;  a  second,  of  the  light  and  heavy ; 
a  third,  of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  and  a  fourth,  of  titillation.  His 
antagonist,  the  elder  Scaliger,  distinguished  as  a  sixth  special 
sense  the  sexual  appetite,  in  which  he  has  been  followed  by 
Bacon,  Voltaire,  and  others.  From  these  historical  notices,  you 
will  see  how  marvellously  incorrect  is  the  statement  that  Locke 
was  the  first  philosopher  who  originated  this  question,  in  allow- 
ing hunger  and  thirst  to  be  the  sensations  of  a  sense  different 
from  tactile  feeling.  Hutcheson,  in  his  work  on  the  Passions, 
says,  "the  division  of  our  external  senses  into  five  common 
classes  is  ridiculously  imperfect.-  Some,  sensations,  such  as 
hunger  and  thirst,  weariness  and  sickness,  can  be  reduced  to 
none  of  them ;  or  if  they  are  reduced  to  feelings,  they  are  per- 
ceptions as  different  from  the  other  ideas  of  touch,  such  as  cold, 
heat,  hardness,  softness,  as  the  ideas  of  taste  or  smell."  Adam 
Smith,  in  his  posthumous  Essays,  observes  that  hunger  and 
thirst  are  objects  of  feeling,  not  of  touch  ;  and  that  heat  and 
cold  are  felt  not  as  pressing  on  the  organ,  but  as  in  the  organ. 
Kant  divides  the  whole  bodily  senses  into  two,  —  into  a  Vital 
Sense  and  an  Organic  Sense.  To  the  former  class  belong  the 
sensations  of  heat  and  cold,  shuddering,  quaking,  etc.  The  lat- 
ter is  divided  into  the  five  senses,  of  Touch  Proper,  Sight, 
Hearing,  Taste,  and  Smell. 

This  division  has  now  become  general  in  Germany,  the  Vital 
Sense  receiving  from  various  authors  various  synonyms,  as 
ccencBSthesis,  common  feeling,  vital  feeling,  and  sense  of  feeling, 
sensu  latiori,  etc. ;  and  the  sensations  attributed  to  it  are  heat 
and  cold,  shuddering,  feeling  of  health,  hunger  and  thirst,  visce- 
ral sensations,  etc.     This  division  is,  likewise,  adopted  by  Dr. 


370 


THE   SENSE  OF  TOUCH. 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


371 


Nt 


«i 


*l 


Brown.  He  divides  our  sensations  into  those  which  are  less 
definite^  and  into  those  which  are  more  definite  ;  and  these,  his 
two  classes,  correspond  precisely  to  the  setisus  vagus  and  sensus 
Jixus  of  the  German  philosophers. 

Touch  distinguished  from  sensible  feeling.  —  The  propriety 
of  throwing  out  of  the  sense  of  Touch  those  sensations  which 
afford  us  indications  only  of  the  subjective  condition  of  the  body, 
in  other  words,  of  dividing  touch  from  sensible  feeling,  is  ap- 
parent. In  the  first  place,  this  is  manifest  on  the  analogy  of 
the  other  special  senses.  These,  as  we  have  seen,  are  divided 
into  two  classes,  according  as  Perception  proper  or  Sensation 
proper  predominates ;  the  senses  of  Sight  and  Hearing  pertaining 
to  the  first,  those  of  Smell  and  Taste  to  the  second.  Here  each 
is  decidedly  either  perceptive  or  sensitive.  But  in  Touch,  under 
the  vulgar  attribution  of  qualities.  Perception  and  Sensation  both 
find  their  maximum.  At  the  finger-points,  this  sense  would 
give  us  objective  knowledge  of  the  outer  world,  with  the  least 
possible  alloy  of  subjective  feehng ;  in  hunger  and  thirst,  etc., 
on  the  contrary,  it  would  afford  us  a  subjective  feeling  of  our 
own  state,  with  the  least  possible  addition  of  objective  knowledge. 
On  this  ground,  therefore,  we  ought  to  attribute  to  different 
senses  perceptions  and  sensations  so  different  in  degree. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  it  is  not  merely  in  the  opposite  degree 
of  these  two  counter  elements  that  this  distinction  is  to  be  founded, 
but  likewise  on  the  different  quality  of  the  groups  of  the  per- 
ceptions and  sensations  themselves.  There  is  nothing  similar 
between  these  different  groups,  except  the  negative  circumstance 
that  there  is  no  special  organ  to  which  positively  to  refer  them ; 
and,  therefore,  they  are  exclusively  slumped  together  under  that 
sense  which  is  not  obtrusively  marked  out  and  isolated  by  the 
mechanism  of  a  peculiar  instrument. 

Touchy  —  its  sphere  and  organic  seat.  —  Limiting,  therefore, 
the  special  sense  of  Touch  to  that  of  objective  information,  it  is 
suflicient  to  say  that  this  sense  has  its  seat  at  the  extremity  of 
the  nerves  which  terminate  in  the  skin ;  its  principal  organs  are 
the  finger-points,  the  toes,  the  lips,  and  the  tongue.  Of  these, 
the  first  is  the  most  perfect.     At  the  tips  of  the  fingers,  a  tender 


skin  covers  the  nervous  papillae ;  and  here  the  nail  serves  not 
only  as  a  protecting  shield  to  the  organ,  but,  likewise,  by  afford- 
ing an  opposition  to  the  body  which  makes  an  impression  on 
the  finger-ends,  it  renders  more  distinct  our  perception  of  the 
nature  of  its  surface.  Through  the  great  mobility  of  the  fingers, 
of  the  wrist,  and  of  the  shoulder-joint,  we  are  able  with  one, 
and  still  more  effectually,  with  both  hands,  to  manipulate  an 
object  on  all  sides,  and  thereby  to  attain  a  knowledge  of  its 
figure.  We  likewise  owe  to  the  sense  of  Touch  a  perception  of 
those  conformations  of  a  body,  according  to  which  we  call  it 
rough  or  smooth,  hard  or  soft,  sharp  or  blunt.  The  repose  or 
motion  of  a  body  is  also  perceived  through  the  touch. 

To  obviate  misunderstanding,  I  should,  however,  notice  that 
the  proper  organ  of  Touch  —  the  nervous  papillae  —  requires,  as 
the  condition  of  its  exercise,  the  movement  of  the  voluntary 
muscles.  This  condition,  however,  ought  not  to  be  viewed  as  a 
part  of  the  organ  itself.  This  being  understood,  the  perception 
of  the  weight  of  a  body  will  not  fall  under  this  sense,  as  the 
nerves  lying  under  the  epidermis  or  scurf  skin  have  little  or  no 
share  in  this  knowledge.  We  owe  it,  almost  exclusively,  to  the 
consciousness  we  have  of  the  exertion  of  the  muscles,  requisite 
to  lift  with  the  hand  a  heavy  body  from  the  ground,  or  when  it 
is  laid  on  the  shoulders  or  head,  to  keep  our  own  body  erect,  and 
to  carry  the  burden  from  one  place  to  another. 

I  next  proceed  to  consider  two  counter-questions,  which  are 
still  agitated  by  philosophers.  The  first  is,  —  Does  Sight  afford 
us  an  original  knowledge  of  extension,  or  do  we  not  owe  this 
exclusively  to  Touch  ?  The  second  is,  —  Does  Touch  afford  us 
an  original  knowledge  of  extension,  or  do  we  not  owe  this  ex- 
clusively to  Sight  ?  Both  questions  are  still  undetermined ;  and, 
consequently,  the  vulgar  belief  is  also  unestabhshed,  that  we  ob- 
tain a  knowledge  of  extension  originally  both  from  sight  and  touch. 

I  commence,  then,  with  the  first,  —  Does  Vision  afford  us  a 
primary  knowledge  of  extension,  or  do  we  not  owe  this  knowl- 
edge exclusively  to  Touch  ?  But,  before  entering  on  its  dis- 
cussion, it  is  proper  to  state  to  you,  by  preamble,  what  kind  of 
extension  it  is  that  those  would  vindicate  to  sight,  who  answer 


372 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


this  question  in  the  atfirmative.  The  whole  primary  objects  of 
sight,  then,  are  colors,  and  extensions,  and  forms  or  figures  of 
extension.  And  here  you  will  observe,  it  is  not  all  kind  of 
extension  and  form  that  is  attributed  to  sight.  It  is  not  figured 
extension  in  all  the  three  dimensions,  but  only  extension  as 
involved  in  plane  figures ;  that  is,  only  length  and  breadth. 

It  has  generally  been  admitted  by  philosophers,  after  Aris- 
totle, that  color  is  the  proper  object  of  sight,  and  that  extension 
and  figure,  common  to  sight  and  touch,  are  only  accidentally  its 
objects,  because  supposed  in  the  perception  of  color.  The  first 
philosopher,  with  whom  I  am  acquainted,  who  doubted  or  denied 
that  vision  is  conversant  with  extension,  was  Berkeley.  [Con- 
dillac  also,  at  one  time,]  maintained  the  same  opinion.  This, 
however,  he  did  not  do  either  very  explicitly  or  without  change.* 
Mr.  Stewart  maintains  that  extension  is  not  an  object  of  sight. 
"I  formerly,"  he  says,  "had  occasion  to  mention  several  m- 
stanees  of  very  intimate  associations  formed  between  two  ideas 
which  have  no  necessary  connection  with  each  other.  One  of 
the  most  remarkable  is,  that  which  exists  in  every  person's 
mind  between  the  notions  of  color  and  extension.  The  former 
of  these  words  expresses  (at  least  in  the  sense  in  which  we 
commonly  employ  it)  a  sensation  in  the  mind,  the  latter  denotes 
a  quality  of  an  external  object ;  so  that  there  is,  in  fact,  no 
more  connection  between  the  two  notions  than  between  those  of 
pain  and  of  solidity ;  and  yet,  in  consequence  of  our  always 
perceiving  extension  at  the  same  time  at  which  the  sensation  of 
color  is  excited  in  the  mmd,  we  find  it  impossible  to  think  of 

*  Neither  Conclillac  nor  Berkeley  goes  so  fiir  iis  to  say,  that  color,  re- 
garded as  an  affection  of  the  visual  organism,  is  apprehended  as  absolutely 
unextcnded,  as  a  matliematical  point.  Nor  is  this  the  question  in  dispute. 
But  ^^rantinjx,  as  Condillac  in  his  later  view  expressly  asserts,  that  color,  as 
a  visual  sensation,  necessarily  occupies  space,  do  we,  by  means  of  that 
sensation,  acquire  also  the  proper  idea  of  extension,  as  composed  of  parts 
exterior  to  each  other  ?  In  other  words,  does  the  sensation  of  different 
colors,  which  is  necessary  to  the  distinction  of  parts  at  all,  necessarily  sug- 
gest different  and  contif^uous  localities^  This  question  is  explicitly  an- 
swered in  the  negative  by  Condillac,  and  in  the  affirmative  by  Sir  W. 
Hamilton.  —  English  Ed. 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


373 


that  sensation  without  conceiving  extension  along  with  it."  But 
before  and  after  Stewart,  a  doctrine,  virtually  the  same,  is  main- 
tained by  the  Hartleian  school ;  who  assert,  as  a  consequence 
of  their  universal  principle  of  association,  that  the  perception 
of  color  suggests  the  notion  of  extension. 

Then  comes  Dr.  Brown,  who,  after  having  repeatedly  asserted, 
that  it  is,  and  always  has  been,  the  universal  opinion  of  philos- 
ophers, that  the  superficial  extension  of  length  and   breadth 
becomes  known  to  us  by  sight  originally,  proceeds,  as  he  says, 
for  the  first  time,  to  controvert  this  opinion ;  though  it  is  wholly 
impossible  that  he  could  have  been  ignorant  that  the  same  had 
been  done,  at  least  by  Condillac  and  Stewart.     He  says,  "  The 
universal  opinion  of  philosophers  is,  that  it  is  not  color  merely 
which  it  [the  simple  original  sensation  of  vision]  involves,  but 
extension  also,  —  that  there  is  a  visible  figure,  as  well  as  a 
tangible  figure,  — and  that  the  visible  figure  involves,  in  our 
instant  original  perception,  superficial  length  and  breadth,  as  the 
tangible  figure,  which  we  learn  to  see,  involves  length,  breadth, 
and  thickness. 

"  That  it  is  impossible  for  us,  at  present,  to  separate,  in  the 
sensation   of  vision,   the   color   from   the   extension,  I  admit ; 
though  not  more  completely  impossible  than  it  is  for  us  to  look 
on  the  thousand  feet  of  a  meadow,  and  to  perceive  only  the 
small  inch  of  greenness  on  our  retina ;  and  the  one  impossibil- 
ity, as  much  as  the  other,  I  conceive  to  arise  only  from  intimate 
association,  subsequent  to  the  original  sensations  of  sight.     Nor 
do  I  deny,  that  a  certain  part  of  the  retina  —  which,  being  Hm- 
ited,  must  therefore  have  figure  — is  affected  by  the  rays  of 
light  that  fall  on  it,  as  a  certain  breadth  of  nervous  expanse  is 
affected  m  all  the  other  organs.     I  contend  only,  that  the  per- 
ception of  this  limited  figure  of  the  portion  of  the  retina  affected 
does  not  enter  into  the  sensation  itseh',  more  than,  in  our  sensa- 
tions of  any  other  species,  there  is  a  perception  of  the  nervous 
breadth  affected. 

**  The  immediate  perception  of  visible  figure  has  been  assumed 
as  indisputable,  rather  than  attempted  to  be  proved ;  —  as  before 
the  time  of  Berkeley,  the  immediate  visual  perception  of  dis- 

32 


874 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


tance,  and  of  the  three  dimensions  of  matter,  was  supposed,  in 
like  manner,  to  be  without  any  need  of  proof;  —  and  it  is,  there- 
fore, impossible  to  refer  to  arguments  on  the  subject.  I  pre- 
sume, however,  that  the  reasons  which  have  led  to  this  belief, 
of  the  immediate  perception  of  a  figure  termed  visible,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  that  tangible  figure  which  we  learn  to  see,  are 
the  following  two,  —  the  only  reasons  which  I  can  even  imao-ine  ; 
—  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible,  in  our  present  sensations  of 
sight,  to  separate  color  from  extension, — and  that  there  are,  in  fact, 
a  certain  length  and  breadth  of  the  retina,  on  which  the  light  falls." 

Summary  of  Brown's  argument.  —  He  then  goes  on  to  argue, 
at  a  far  greater  length  than  can  be  quoted,  that  the  mere  cir- 
cumstance of  a  certain  definite  space,  namely,  the  extended 
retina,  being  affected  by  certain  sensations,  does  not  necessarily 
involve  the  notion  of  extension.  Indeed,  in  all  those  cases  in 
which  it  is  supposed,  that  a  certain  diffusion  of  sensations  ex- 
cites the  notion  of  extension,  it  seems  to  be  taken  for  granted 
that  the  being  knows  already,  that  he  has  an  extended  body, 
over  which  these  sensations  are  thus  diffused.  Nothing  but  the 
sense  of  touch,  however,  and  nothing  but  those  kinds  of  touch 
which  imply  the  idea  of  continued  resistance,  can  give  us  any 
notion  of  body  at  all.  All  mental  affections  which  are  regarded 
merely  as  feelings  of  the  mind,  and  which  do  not  give  us  a  con- 
ception of  their  external  causes,  can  never  be  known  to  arise 
from  any  thing  which  is  extended  or  solid.  So  far,  however,  is 
the  mere  sensation  of  color  from  being  able  to  produce  this,  that 
touch  itself,  as  felt  in  many  of  its  modifications,  could  give  us  no 
idea  of  it.  That  the  sensation  of  color  is  quite  unfit  to  give  us 
any  idea  of  extension,  merely  by  its  being  diffused  over  a  cer- 
tain expanse  of  the  retina,  seems  to  be  corroborated  by  what 
we  experience  in  the  other  senses,  even  after  we  are  perfectly 
acquainted  with  the  notion  of  extension.  In  heai'ing,  for  in- 
stance, a  certain  quantity  of  the  tympanum  of  the  ear  must  be 
affected  by  the  pulsations  of  the  air ;  yet  it  gives  us  no  idea  of 
the  dimensions  of  the  part  affected.  The  same  may,  in  general, 
be  said  of  taste  and  smell. 

Proof  that  sight  takes  cognizance  of  extension.  —  Now,  in  aU 


I 


PERCEPTIONS  BY   SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


375 


their  elaborate  argumentation  on  this  subject,  these  philosophers 
seem  never  yet  to  have  seen  the  real  difficulty  of  their  doctrine. 
It  can  easily  be  shown  that  the  perception  of  color  involves  the 
perception  of  extension.     All  parties  are,  of  course,  at  one  in 
regard  to  the  fact  that  we  see  color.     Those  who  hold  that  we 
see  extension,  admit  that  we  see  it  only  as  colored;  and  those 
who  deny  us  any  vision  of  extension,  make  color  the  exclusive 
object  of  sight.     In  regard  to  this  first  position,  aU  are,  there- 
fore,  agreed.     Nor  are  they  less  harmonious  in  regard  to  the 
second  ;  —  that  the  power  of  perceiving  color  involves  the  power 
of  perceiving  the  differences  of  colors.     By  sight  we,  therefore, 
perceive  color,  and  discriminate   one  color,  that  is,  one  colored 
body,  —  one  sensation  of  color,  from  another.     This  is  admitted 
A  third  position  will  also  be  denied  by  none,  that  the  colors  dis- 
criminated in  vision  are,  or  may  be,  placed  side  by  side  in  im- 
mediate juxtaposition;    or,   one  may  limit   another  by  being 
supennduced  partially  over  it.     A  fourth  position  is  equally  in- 
disputable, —  that  the  contrasted   colors,   thus  boundino-  each 
other,  will  form  by  their  meeting  a  visible  line,  and  thatrif  the 
superinduced  color  be  surrounded  by  the  other,  this  line  wiU 
return  upon  itself,  and  thus  constitute  the  outline  of  a  visible 
figure. 

These  four  positions  command  a  peremptory  absent;  they  are 
all  self-evident.     But  their  admission  at  once  explodes  the  para- 
dox under  discussion.     And  thus :  a  line  is  extension  in  one 
dimension,  —  length  ;  a  figure  is  extension  in  two,  —  length  and 
breadth.     Therefore,  the  vision  of  a  line  is  a  vision  of  extension 
m  length  ;  the  vision  of  a  figure,  the  vision  of  extension  in  length 
and  breadth.     This  is  an  immediate  demonstration  of  the  impos- 
sibility of  ih^  opinion  in  question ;  and  it  is  curious  that  the  in- 
genuity, which  suggested  to  its  supporters  the  petty  and  recon- 
dite objections  they  have  so  operosely  combated,  should  not  have 
shown  them  this  gigantic  difficulty,  which  lay  obtrusively  before 
them. 

Extension  cannot  he  imagined  except  as  colored  and  shaped  — 
So  far,  in  fact,  is  the  doctrine  which  divorces  the  perceptions 
of  color  and  extension  from  being  true,  that  we  cannot  even 


m 


376 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


represent  extension  to  the  mind  except  as  colored.  When  we 
come  to  the  consideration  of  the  Representative  FacuUy,  —  Im- 
agination, —  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you  (what  has  not  been 
observed  by  psychologists),  that  in  the  representation,  —  in  the 
imagination  of  sensible  objects,  we  always  represent  them  in  the 
organ  of  Sense  through  which  we  originally  perceived  them. 
Thus,  we  cannot  imagine  any  particular  odor  but  in  the  nose ; 
nor  any  sound  but  in  the  ear ;  nor  any  taste  but  in  the  mouth ; 
and  if  we  would  represent  any  pain  we  have  ever  felt,  this  can 
only  be  done  through  the  local  nerves.  In  like  manner,  when 
we  imagine  any  modification  of  light  we  do  so  in  the  eye ;  and 
it  is  a  curious  confirmation  of  this,  as  is  well  known  to  physiol- 
ogists, that  when  not  only  the  external  apparatus  of  the  eye, 
which  is  a  mere  mechanical  instrument,  but  the  real  organ  of 
sight,  —  the  optic  nerves  and  their  thalami,  have  become  dis- 
eased, the  patient  loses,  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of  the  mor- 
bid affection,  either  wholly  or  in  part,  the  faculty  of  recalhng 
visible  phaenomena  to  his  mind.  I  mention  this  at  present  in 
order  to  show,  that  Vision  is  not  only  a  sense  competent  to  the 
perception  of  extension,  but  the  sense  xar  t^oxijv,  if  not  exclu- 
sively, so  competent,  —  and  this  in  the  following  manner :  You 
either  now  know,  or  will  hereafter  learn,  that  no  notion,  whether 
native  and  general,  or  adventitious  and  generalized,  can  be  rep- 
resented in  imagination,  except  in  a  concrete  or  singular  exam- 
ple. For  instance,  you  cannot  imagine  a  triangle  which  is  not 
either  an  equilateral,  or  an  isosceles,  or  a  scalene,  —  in  short, 
some  individual  form  of  a  triangle ;  nay,  more,  you  cannot  im- 
agine it,  except  either  large  or  small,  on  paper,  or  on  a  board, 
of  wood  or  of  iron,  white  or  black  or  green ;  in  short,  except 
under  all  the  special  determinations  which  give  it,  in  thought,  as 
in  existence,  singularity  and  individuality.  The  same  happens, 
too,  with  extension.  Space  I  admit  to  be  a  native  form  of 
thought,  —  not  an  adventitious  notion.  We  cannot  but  think  it 
Yet  I  cannot  actually  represent  space  in  imagination,  stript  of  all 
individualizing  attributes.  In  this  act,  I  can  easily  annihilate 
all  corporeal  existence,  —  I  can  imagine  empty  space.  But 
there  are  two  attributes  of  which  I  cannot  divest  it,  that  is, 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


h  -""— ^^^^>^  ^1    SIGHT  AND  TOUCH.  377 

statement ;  but  .f  you  attend  to  the  ph^enomenon,  you  will  soon 
n^t    Se   a'd  '-""•    ^  «-' ^ '-"ape.    YoL  minds  ^ 

Zee    teZ    """°-'  ^r'""'  P°""^'^'y  "=»«--  -finite 
space.     Infinite  space  as  only  conceived  negatively,  -  only  by 

XTdTair  T:t^'':-'  '"  "'''''  --<''i--ot  be'co^ 
ceived  at  all.     But  if  we  do  our  utmost  to  realize  this  notion  of 

;:  ::rdr~ ''  vf^^  ^^  of  imagination,  how;:: 

carry  the  circumference  of  the  sphere  to  infinity.  But  by  no 
one  effort  of  imagination  can  we  accomplish  this ;  L  as  we  'can! 
not  do  It  at  once  by  one  infinite  act,  it  would  require  an  eternity 
o  successive  finite  efforts, -an  endless  series  of  imaS 
beyond  imaginings,  to  equalize  the  thought  with  its  object"  The 
very  attempt  is  contradictory.     But  when  we  leave  ojhas  the 

this  fi:'ure'    T,      '  T"'  r'*"*''^  '  ''^'''-     ^^''  *en,  i 
effort  of  imagining  spaee  is  an  effort  outwards  from  a  centre 
the  space  represented  in  imagination  is  necessarily  circular.     I 
there  be  no  shape,  there  has  been  no  positive  imagination ;  and 

signed.     Such  IS  the  figure  of  space  in  a  free  act  of  phantasy. 

This,  however,  will  be  admitted  without  scruple;  for  if  real 
space,  as  it  is  well  described  by  St.  Augustin,  be  a  B;here  whTe 
centre  is  everywhere,  and  whose  circumference  is  nowherit       ' 
agined  space  may  be  allowed  to  be  a  sphere  whose  cireum  e^ 
ence  is  represented  at  any  distance  from  its  centre.     But  w-iU  its 
color  be  as  easily  allowed.^     In  explanation  of  this,  you  wS 
observe,  that  under  color,  I  of  course  include  black  as  wel^ 
whue;  the  transparent  as  weU  a.  the  opaque, -in  shortly 
modification  of  lin-ht  or  dnrknBc^     Tk-   u  •  ,  '      ^ 

tain  th^,  U  i.  ■  ""'"' "'"''"ess.  This  being  underetood,  I  main- 
tain that  t  ,s  impossible  to  imagine  figure,  extension,  space  ex- 
cept  as  colored  in  some  determinate  mode.  You  may  epi"  e'l  "t 
«n  er  any,  bu.  you  must  represent  it  nnder  some  mo^ifica^l 

coi  rect.     But  I  anticipate  an  objection.     The  non-perception  of 

32  * 


ll, 


\ 


II 


378 


PERCEPTIONS  BY   SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


color,  or  the  inability  of  discriminating  colors,  is  a  case  of  not 
unfrequent  occurrence,  though  the  subjects  of  this  deficiency  are, 
at  the  same  time,  not  otherwise  defective  in  vision.  In  cases  of 
this  description,  there  is,  however,  necessarily  a  discrimination 
of  light  and  shade ;  and  the  colors  that  to  us  appear  in  all  "  the 
sevenfold  radiance  of  effulgent  light,"  to  them  appear  only  as 
different  gradations  of  clare-obscure.  Were  this  not  the  case, 
there  could  be  no  vision.  Such  persons,*  therefore,  have  still 
two  great  contrasts  of  color,  —  black  and  white,  and  an  indefinite 
number  of  intermediate  gradations,  in  which  to  represent  space 
to  their  imaginations.  Nor  is  there  any  difficulty  in  the  case  of 
the  blind,  the  absolutely  blind,  —  the  blind  from  birth.  Blind- 
ness is  the  non-perception  of  color ;  the  non-perception  of  color 
is  simple  dai-kness.  The  space,  therefore,  represented  by  the 
bhnd,  if  represented  at  all,  will  be  represented  black.  Some 
modification  of  ideal  light  or  darkness  is  thus  the  condition  of 
the  imagination  of  space.  This  of  itself  powerfully  supports 
the  doctrine,  that  vision  is  conversant  with  extension  as  its  ob- 
ject. But  if  the  opinion  I  have  stated  be  correct,  that  an  act 
of  imagination  is  only  realized  through  some  organ  of  sense,  the 
impossibility  of  representing  space  out  of  all  relation  to  light 
and  color  at  once  establishes  the  eye  as  the  appropriate  sense  of 
extension  and  figure. 

jyAlemhert  on  seeing  extension. — In  corroboration  of  the 
general  view  I  have  taken  of  the  relation  of  Sight  to  extension, 
I  may  translate  to  you  a  passage  by  a  distinguished  mathema- 
tician and  philosopher,  who,  in  writing  it,  probably  had  in  his 
eye  the  paradoxical  speculation  of  Condillac.  "  It  is  certain," 
says  D'  Alembert, ''  that  sight  alone,  and  independently  of  touch, 
affords  us  the  idea  of  extension ;  for  extension  is  the  necessary 
object  of  vision,  and  we  should  see  nothing  if  we  did  not  see  it 
extended.  I  even  believe  that  sight  must  give  us  the  notion  of 
extension  more  readily  than  touch,  because  sight  makes  us  re- 
mark more  promptly  and  perfectly  than  touch,  that  contiguity, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  that  distinction,  of  parts  in  which  exten- 
sion consists.  Moreover,  vision  alone  gives  us  the  idea  of  the 
color  of  objects.     Let  us  suppose  now  parts  of  space  differently 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH.  379 

colored,  and  presented  to  our  eyes  ;  the  difference  of  colors  wiU 
necessarily  cause  us  to  observe  the  boundaries  or  Hmits  which 
separate  two  neighboring  colors,  and,  consequently,  will  give  us 
an  Idea  of  figure;  for  we  conceive  a  figure  when  we  conceive  a 
limitation  or  boundary  on  all  sides." 

I  am  confident,  therefore,  that  we  may  safely  establish  the 
conclusion,  that  Sight  is  a  sense  principally  conversant  with  ex- 
tension ;  whether  it  be  the  only  sense  thus  conversant,  remains 
to  be  considered. 

Does  Touch  afford  us  an  original  knowledge  of  extension.  - 
I  proceed,  therefore,  to  the  second  of  the  counter-problems,  _ 
to  inquire  whether  Sight  be  exclusively  the  sense  which  affordB 
us  a  knowledge  of  extension,  or  whether  it  does  this  only  , 
junctly  with  Touch.  As  some  philosophers  have  deniedlo  v.  .on 
all  perception  of  extension  and  figure,  and  given  this  solely  to 
touch,  so  others  have  equally  refused  this  perception  to  touch, 
and  accorded  it  exclusively  to  vision. 

This  doctrine  is  maintained  among  others  by  Platner  —a 
man  no  less  celebrated  as  an  acute  philosopher,  than  as  a  learned 
physician,  and  an  elegmit  scholar.     I  shall  endeavor  to  render 
Lis  philosophical  German  into  intelligible  English,  and  translate 
some  of  the  preliminary  sentences  with  which  he  introduces  a 
curious  observation  by  him  on  a  blind  subject.     "  It  is  very  true 
a«^  my  acute  antagonist  observes,  that   the  gloomy  extension 
which  imagination  presents  to  us  as  an  actual  object,  is  by  no 
means  the  pure  a  priori  representation  of  space.     It  is  very 
true  that  this  is  only  an  empirical  or  adventitious  image,  which 
Itself  supposes  the  pure  or  a  priori  notion  of  space  (or  of  ex- 
tension),  in  other  words,  the  necessity  to  think  eveiy  thin^  as 
extended.     But  I  did  not  wish  to  explain  the  origin  of  "this 
mental  condition  or  foi-m  of  thought  objectively,  through  the 
sense  of  sight,  but  only  to  say  this  much :  _  that  empirical  space, 
empirical  extension,  is  dependent  on  the  sense  of  sight, -that 
allowing  space  or  extension,  as  a  form  of  thought,  to  be  in  us' 
were  there  even  nothing  correspondent  to  it  out  of  us,  still  the 
unknown  extei-nal  things  must  operate  upon  us,  and,  in  fact, 
through  the  sense  of  sight,  do  operate  upon  us,  if  this  uncon- 
scious form  is  to  be  brought  into  consciousness." 


II 


/ 


i 


380 


PERCEPTIONS   BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


And  after  some  other  observations  he  goes  on :  "In  regard 
to  the  visionlcss  representation  of  space  or  extension,  —  the 
attentive  observ^ation  of  a  person  born  blind,  which  I  formerly 
instituted,  in  the  year  1785,  and,  again,  in  relation  to  the  point 
in  question,  have  continued  for  three  whole  weeks,  —  this  obser- 
vation, I  say,  has  convinced  me,  that  the  sense  of  touch,  by 
itself,  is  altogether  incompetent  to  afford  us  the  representation 
of  extension  and  space,  and  is  not  even  cognizant  of  local  ex- 
teriority ;  in  a  word,  that  a  man  deprived  of  sight  has  absolutely 
no  perception  of  an  outer  world,  beyond  the  existence  of  some- 
thing effective,  different  from  his  own  feeling  of  passivity,  and 
in  general  only  of  the  numerical  diversity,  —  shall  I  say,  of 
knpressions,  or  of  things?  In  fact,  to  those  born  blind,  time 
serves  instead  of  space.  Vicinity  and  distance  means  in  their 
mouths  nothing  more  than  the  shorter  or  longer  time,  the  smaller 
or  greater  number  of  feelings,  which  they  find  necessary  to 
attain  from  some  one  feeling  to  some  other.  That  a  person 
blind  from  birth  employs  the  language  of  vision,  —  that  may 
occasion  considerable  error,  and  did,  indeed,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  my  observations,  lead  me  wrong ;  but,  in  point  of  fact, 
he  knows  nothing  of  things  as  existing  out  of  each  other ;  and 
(this  in  particular  I  have  very  clearly  remarked),  if  objects, 
and  the  parts  of  his  body  touched  by  them,  did  not  make  differ- 
ent kinds  of  impression  on  his  nerves  of  sensation,  he  would 
take  every  thing  external  for  one  and  the  same.  In  his  own 
body,  he  absolutely  did  not  discriminate  head  and  foot  at  all  by 
their  distance,  but  merely  by  the  difference  of  the  feelings  (and 
his  perception  of  such  difference  was  incredibly  fine),  which  he 
experienced  from  the  one  and  from  the  other ;  and,  moreover, 
through  time.  In  like  manner,  in  external  bodies,  he  distin- 
guished their  figure  merely  by  the  varieties  of  impressed  feel- 
ings ;  inasmuch,  for  example,  as  the  cube,  by  its  angles,  affected 
his  feeling  differently  from  the  sphere.  No  one  can  conceive 
how  deceptive  is  the  use  of  language  accommodated  to  vision. 
When  my  acute  antagonist  appeals  to  Cheselden's  case,  which 
proves  directly  the  reverse  of  what  it  is  adduced  to  refute,  he 
does  not  consider  that  the  first  visual  impressions  which  one 


I 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


381 


bom  blind  receives  after  couching,  do  not  constitute  vision.     For 
tlie  vei7  reason,  that  space  and  extension  are  empirically  only 
possible  through  a  perception  of  sight,  — for  that  veiy  reason 
must  such  a  patient,  after  his  eyes  are  freed  from  the  cataract! 
first  learn  to  live  in  space;  if  he  could  do  this  previously,  then 
would  not  the  distant  seem  to  him  near,  — the  separate  would 
not  appear  to  him  as  one.     These  are  the  grounds  which  make 
It  impossible  for  me  to  believe  empirical  space  in  a  blind  person ; 
and  from  these  I  infer,  that  tlus  form  of  sensibiUty,  as  Mr.  Kant 
caUs  It,  and  which,  in  a  certain  signification,  may  very  properly 
be  styled  a  pure  representation,  cannot  come  into  consciousness 
otherwise  than  through  the  medium  of  our  visual  perception ; 
without,  however,  denying  that  it  is  something  merely  subjective 
or  affirming  that  sight  affords  any  tiling  similar  to  this  kind  of 
representation.     The  example  of  blind  geometers  would  Uke. 
wise  argue  nothing  against  me,  even  if  the  geometers  had  been 
boi-n  blind;   and   this  they  were  not,  if,  even  in  their  early 
mtancy,  they  had  seen  a  single  extended  object," 

Ph<enomma  that  support  Platner's  doctrine To  what  Plat- 

ner  has  here  stated  I  would  add,  from  personal  experiment  and 
observation  upon  others,  that  if  any  one  who  is  not  blind  will 
go  mto  a  room  of  an  unusual  shape,  wholly  unknown  to  him 
and  into  which  no  ray  of  light  is  allowed  to  penetrate,  he  may 
grope  about  for  hours, -he  may  touch  and  manipulate  every 
side  and  corner  of  it ;  still,  notwithstanding  every  endeavor  — 
notwithstanding  aU  the  previous  subsidiary  notions  he  brin-s  to 
the  task,  he  will  be  unable  to  form  any  correct  idea  of  the  room. 
In  like  manner,  a  blindfolded  person  will  make  the  most  curious 
mistakes  in  regard  to  the  figure  of  objects  presented  to  him,  if 
these  are  of  any  considerable  circumference.     But  if  the  sense 
of  touch  in  such  favorable  circumstances  can  effect  so  little  how 
much  less  could  it  afford  us   any  knowledge  of  forms,  if  the 
assistance  which  it  here  brings  with  it  from  our  visual  con- 
ceptions  were  wholly  wanting? 

This  view  is,  I  think,  strongly  confirmed  by  the  famous  case 
of  a  young  gentleman.  Wind  from  birth,  couched  by  Cheselden  • 
-a  case  remarkable  for  being  perhaps,  of  those  cured,  that  m' 


II 


382 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


PERCEPTIONS  BY  SIGHT  AND  TOUCH. 


883 


i 


7! 

i 
4 


■:1 


which  the  cataract  was  most  perfect  (it  only  allowed  of  a  dis- 
tinction of  light  and  darkness)  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  in  which 
the  pha;nomena  have  been  most  distinctly  described.  In  this 
latter  respect,  it  is,  however,  very  deficient ;  and  it  is  saying  but 
little  in  fiivor  of  the  philosophical  acumen  of  medical  men,  that 
the  narrative  of  this  case,  with  all  its  faults,  is,  to  the  present 
moment,  the  one  most  to  be  rehed  on. 

Now  I  contend  (though  I  am  aware  I  have  high  authority 
against  me),  that  if  a  bhnd  man  had  been  able  to  form  a  con- 
ception of  a  square  or  globe  by  mere  touch,  he  would,  on  first 
perceiving  them  by  sight,  be  able  to  discriminate  them  from  each 
other  ;  for  this  supposes  only  that  he  had  acquired  the  primary 
notions  of  a  straight  and  of  a  curved  line.  Again,  if  touch 
afforded  us  the  notion  of  space  or  extension  in  general,  the 
patient,  on  obtaining  sight,  would  certainly  be  able  to  conceive 
the  possibility  of  space  or  extension  beyond  the  actual  boundary 
of  his  vision.     But  of  both  of  these  Cheselden's  patient  was 

found  incapable. 

"  Though  we  say  of  this  gentleman,  that  he  was  blind,"  ob- 
serves Mr.  Cheselden,  "  as  we  do  of  all  people  who  have  ripe 
cataracts  ;  yet  they  are  never  so  blind  from  that  cause  but  that 
they  can  discern  day  from  night ;  and  for  the  most  part,  in  a 
strong  hght,  distinguish  black,  white,  and  scarlet;  but  they 
cannot  perceive  the  shape  of  any  thing  ;  for  the  light  by  which 
these  perceptions  are  made,  being  let  in  obliquely  through  the 
aqueous  humor,  or  the  anterior  surface  of  the  crystalline  (by 
which  the  rays  cannot  be  brought  into  a  focus  upon  the  retina), 
they  can  discern  in  no  other  manner  than  a  sound  eye  can 
through  a  glass  of  broken  jelly,  where  a  great  variety  of  sur- 
faces so  differently  refract  the  light,  that  the  several  distinct 
pencils  of  rays  cannot  be  collected  by  the  eye  into  theu*  proper 
foci ;  wherefore  the  shape  of  an  object  in  such  a  case  cannot  be 
at  all  discerned,  though  the  color  may ;  and  thus  it  was  with 
this  young  gentleman,  who,  though  he  knew  those  colors  asunder 
in  a  good  light,  yet  when  he  saw  them  after  he  was  couched,  the 
faint  ideas  he  had  of  them  before  were  not  sufficient  for  him  to 
know  them  by  afterwards  ;  and  therefore  he  did  not  think  them 


the  same  which  he  had  before  known  by  those  names 

When  he  first  saw,  he  was  so  far  from  making  any  judgment 
about  distances,  that  he  thought  aU  objects  whatever  touched  his 
eyes  (as  he  expressed  it),  as  what  he  felt  did  his  skin ;  and 
thought  no  objects  so  agreeable  as  those  which  were  smooth  and 
regular,  though  he  could  form  no  judgment  of  their  shape,  or 
guess  what  it  was  in  any  object  that  was  pleasing  to  him.     He 
knew  not  the  shape  of  any  thing,  nor  any  one  thing  from  another, 
however  different  in  shape  or  magnitude  :*  but  upon  being  told 
what  things  were,  whose  form  he  before  knew  from  feeling,  he 
would  carefully  observe,  that  he  might  know  them  again ;  but 
having  too  many  objects  to  learn  at  once,  he  forgot  many  of 
them  ;  and  (as  he  said),  at  first  learned  to  know,  and  again  forgot 
a  thousand  things  in  a  day.     One  particular  only  (though  it  may 
appear  trifling),  I  wiU  relate :  Having  often  forgot  which  was 
the  cat,  and  which  the  dog,  he  was  ashamed  to  ask ;  but  catch- 
mg  the  cat  (which  he  knew  by  feeling),  he  was  observed  to  look 
at  her  steadfastly,  and  then  setting  her  down,  said,  '  So,  puss !  I 

shall  know  you  another  time.' We  thought  he  soon 

knew  what  pictures  represented  which  were  showed  to  him,  but 
we  found  afterwards  we  were  mistaken ;  for  about  two  months 
after  he  was  couched,  he  discovered  at  once  they  represented 

*  [This  cannot  mean  that  he  saw  no  difference  between  objects  of  differ- 
ent shapes  and  sizes  ;  for  if  this  interpretation  were  adopted,  the  rest  of  the 
statement  becomes  nonsense.     If  he  had  been  altogether  incapable  of  appre- 
hendmg  differences,  it  could  not  be  said  that,  "  being  told  what  thin-s  were 
whose  form  he  before  knew  from  feeling,  he  would  carefully  observe  that 
he  might  know  them  again ;  "  for  observation  supposes  the  power  of  dis- 
crimmation,  and,  in  particular,  the  anecdote  of  the  dog  and  cat  would  be 
mconceivable  on  that  hypothesis.     It  is  plain  that  Cheselden  only  meant  to 
say,  that  the  things  which  the  patient  could  previously  distinguish  and 
denommate  by  touch,  he  could  now  identify  and  refer  to'their  appellations 
by  sight.     And  this  is  wliat  we  might,  a  priori,  be  assured  of.     A  sphere 
and  a  cube  would  certainly  make  diflferent  impressions  on  him ;  but  it  is 
probable  that  he  could  not  assign  to  each  its  name,  though,  in  this  particular 
ca^e,  there  is  good  ground  for  holding,  that  the  slightest  consideration  would 
enable  a  person,  previously  acquainted  with  these  figures,  and  aware  that 
the  one  was  a  cube  and  the  other  a  sphere,  to  connect  them  with  his  anterior 
experience,  and  to  discriminate  them  by  name.]  —Notes  to  Reid. 


I 


I'l 


884 


VISUAL  PERCEPTION   OF  DISTANCE. 


soUd  bodies,  when,  to  that  time,  he  considered  them  only  as 
particolored  planes,  or  surfaces  diversified  with  variety  of  pamts  ; 
but  even  then  he  was  no  less  surprised,  expecting  the  pictures 
would  feel  Uke  the  things  they  represented,  and  was  amazed 
when  he  found  those  parts,  which  by  their  light  and  shadow 
appeared  now  round  and  uneven,  felt  only  flat  like  the  rest ;  and 
asked  which  was  the  lying  sense,  feeling  or  seeing." 

The  whole  of  this  matter  is  still  enveloped  in  great  uncer- 
tainty, and  I  should  be  sorry  either  to  dogmatize  myself,  or  to 
advise  you  to  form  any  decided  opinion.  Without,  however, 
going  the  length  of  Platner,  in  denying  the  possibility  of  a 
geometer  blind  from  birth,  we  may  allow  this,  and  yet  vindicate 
exclusively  to  sight  the  power  of  affording  us  our  empirical 
notions  of  space.  The  explanation  of  this  supposes,  however, 
an  acquaintance  with  the  doctrine  of  pure  or  a  priori  space 
as  a  form  of  thought ;  it  must,  therefore,  for  the  present  be 

deferred. 

How  do  we  perceive  visual  distance.  —  The  last  question  on 
which  I  shall  touch,  and  with  which  I  shall  conclude  the  con- 
sideration of  Perception  in  general,  is,  —  How  do  we  obtain  our 
knowledge  of  Visual  Distance?     Is  this  original,  or  acquired? 
With  regard  to  the  method  by  which  we  judge  of  distance,  it 
was  formerly  supposed  to  depend  upon  an  original  law  of  the 
constitution,  and  to  be  independent  of  any  knowledge  gained 
thi-ou-h  the  medium  of  the  external  senses.     This  opmion  was 
attacked  by  Berkeley  in  his  New  Theory  of  Vision,  one  of  the 
finest  examples,  as  Dr.  Smith  justly  observes,  of  philosophical 
analysis  to  be  found  in  our  own  or  in  any  other  language ;  and 
in  which  it  appears  most  clearly  demonstrated,  that  our  whole 
^formation  on  this  subject  is  acquired  by  experience  and  associ- 
ation.    This  conclusion  is  supported  by  many  circumstances  of 
frequent  occurrence,  in  which  we  fall  into  the  greatest  mistakes 
with  respect  to  the  distance  of  objects,  when  we  form  our  judg- 
ment solely  from  the  visible  impression  made  upon  the  retina, 
without  attending  to  the  other  circumstances  which  ordinarily 
direct  us  in  forming  our  conclusions.    It  also  obtains  confirmation 
from  the  case  of  Cheselden,  which  I  have  already  quoted.     It 


VISUAL  PERCEPTION  OF  DISTANCE. 


385 


clearly  appears  that,  in  the  first  instance,  the  patient  had  no 
correct  ideas  of  distance ;  and  we  are  expressly  told  that  he 
supposed  all  objects  to  touch  the  eye,  until  he  learned  to  correct 
his  visible,  by  means  of  his  tangible,  impressions,  and  thus  grad- 
nally  to  acquire  more  correct  notions  of  the  situation  of  sur- 
rounding bodies  witJi  respect  to  his  own  person. 

W/mt  enables  m  to  estimate  distance.  —  On  tlie  hypothesis  that 
our  ideas  of  distance  are  acquired,  it  remains  for  us  to  investi- 
gate the  circumstances  which  assist  us  in  forming  our  judo-ment 
respecting  them.     We  shall  find  that  they  may  be  arranged 
under  two  heads,  some  of  them  depending  upon  certain  sta'tes 
of  the  eye  itself,  and  others  upon  various  accidents  that  occur 
in  the  appearance  of  the  objects.     With  respect  to  distances 
that  are  so  short  as  to  require  the  adjustment  of  the  eye  in  order 
to  obtain  distinct  vision,  it  appears  that  a  certain  voluntary  effort 
is  necessary  to  produce  the  desired  effect :  this  effort,  whatever 
^1  may  be  its  nature,  causes  a  corresponding  sensation,  the  amount 

of  which  we  learn  by  experience  to  appreciate  ;  and  thus,  through 
the  medium  of  association,  we  acquire  the  power  of  estimating 
the  distance  with  sufficient  accuracy. 

When  objects  are  placed  at  only  a  moderate  distance,  but  not 
such  as  to  require  the  adjustment  of  the  eye,  in  directing  the  two 
eyes  to  the  object  we  incline  them  inwards ;  as  is  the  case  like- 
wise with  very  short  distances :  so  that  what  are  termed  the 
axes  of  the  eyes,  if  produced,  would  make  an  angle  at  the  object, 
the  angle  varying  inversely  as  the  distance.     Here,  as  in  the 
former  case,  we  have  certain  perceptions  excited  by  the  muscular 
efforts  necessary  to  produce  a  proper  inclination  of  the  axes,  and 
these  we  learn  to  associate  with  certain  distances.     As  a  proof 
that  this  is  the  mode  by  which  we  judge  of  those  distances  where 
the  optic  axes  form  an  appreciable  angle,  when  the  eyes  are  both 
directed  to  the  same  object,  while  the  effort  of  adjustment  is 
not  perceptible,  — it  has  been  remarked,  that  persons  who  are 
deprived  of  the  sight  of  one  eye,  are  incapable  of  forming  a 
correct  judgment  in  this  case. 

When  we  are  required  to  judge  of  still  greater  distances,  where 
the  object  is  so  remote  as  that  the  axes  of  the  two  eyes  are  par- 

33 


m 


386 


VISUAL  PERCEPTION  OF  DISTANCE. 


VISUAL  PERCEPTION  OF  DISTANCE. 


387 


allel,  we  are  no  longer  able  to  form  our  opinion  from  any  sen- 
sation in  the  eye  itself.  In  this  case,  we  have  recourse  to  a 
variety  of  circumstances  connected  with  the  appearance  of  the 
object ;  for  example,  its  apparent  size,  the  distinctness  with 
which  it  is  seen,  the  vividness  of  its  colors,  the  number  of  inter- 
vening objects,  and  other  similar  accidents,  all  of  which  obvi- 
ously depend  upon  previous  experience,  and  which  we  are  in 
the  habit  of  associating  with  different  distances,  without,  in  each 
particular  case,  investigating  the  cause  on  which  our  judgment 
is  founded.* 

But  animals  have  an  instinctive  perception  of  distance.-, —  The 
conclusions  of  science  seem  in  this  case  to  be  decisive ;  and  yet 
the  whole  question  is  thrown  into  doubt  by  the  analogy  of  the 
lower  animals.  If,  in  man,  the  perception  of  distance  be  not 
original  but  acquired,  the  perception  of  distance  must  be  also 
acquired  by  them.  But  as  this  is  not  the  case  in  regard  to  ani- 
mals, this  confirms  the  reasoning  of  those  who  would  explain 
the  perception  of  distance  in  man  as  an  original,  not  as  an 
acquired,  knowledge.     That  the  Berkeleian  doctrine  is  opposed 

*  [We  must  be  careful  not,  like  Reid  and  philosophers  in  general,  to 
confound  the  perceptions  of  mere  externality  or  outness,  and  the  knowledge 
we  may  have  of  distance,  through  the  eye.  The  former  may  be,  and  prob- 
ably is,  natural ;  while  the  latter,  in  a  great  but  unappreciable  measure,  is 
acquired.  In  the  case  of  Cheselden  —  that  in  which  the  blindness  previous 
to  the  recovery  of  sight  was  most  perfect,  and  therefore  the  most  instnictive 
upon  record  —  the  patient,  though  he  had  little  or  no  perception  of  distance, 
i.  e.  of  the  degree  of  ejcternaliti/,  had  still  a  perception  of  that  externality 
absolutely.  The  objects,  he  said,  seemed  to  "  touch  his  eyes,  as  what  he 
felt  did  his  skin  ;  "  but  they  did  not  appear  to  him  as  if  in  his  eyes,  far  less 
as  a  mere  affection  of  the  organ.  This  natural  perception  of  outness,  wliich 
is  the  foundation  of  our  accjuired  knowledge  of  distance,  seems  given  us  in 
the  natural  perception  we  have  of  the  direction  of  the  rays  of  light. 

In  like  manner,  we  must  not  confound,  as  is  commonly  done,  the  fjict  of 
the  eye  affording  us  a  perception  of  extension  and  plane  Jigure,  or  outline, 
in  the  perception  of  colors,  and  the  fact  of  its  being  the  vehicle  of  intima- 
tions in  regard  to  the  comparative  magnitude  and  cubical  forms  of  the 
objects  from  which  these  rays  |)roceed.  The  one  is  a  knowledge  by  sense 
—  natural,  immediate,  and  infallible ;  the  other,  like  that  of  distance,  is  by 
inference  —  acquired,  mediate,  and  at  best,  always  insecure]. — Notes  to  Reid. 


\ 


by  the  analogy  of  the  lower  animals,  is  admitted  by  one  of  its 
most  intelligent  supporters,  —  Dr.  Adam  Smith. 

"  That,  antecedent  to  all  experience,"  says  Smith,  "  the  young 
of  at  least  the  greater  part  of  animals  possess  some  instinctive 
perception  of  this  kind,  seems  abundantly  evident.     The  hen 
never  feeds  her  young  by  dropping  the  food  into  their  bills,  as 
the  linnet  and  the  thrush  feed  theirs.     Almost  as  soon  as  her 
chickens  are  hatched,  she  does  not  feed  them,  but  carries  them 
to  the  field  to  feed,  where  they  walk  about  at  their  ease,  it  would 
seem,  and  appear  to  have  the  most  distinct  perception  of  all  the 
tangible  objects  which  surround  them.     We  may  often  see  them, 
accordingly,  by  the  straightest  road,  run  to  and  pick  up  any 
little  grains  which  she  shows  them,  even  at  the  distance  of  several 
yards  ;  and  they  no  sooner  come  into  the  light  than  they  seem 
to  understand  this  language  of  Vision  as  well  as  they  ever  do 
afterwards.     The  young  of  the  partridge  and  the  grouse  seem 
to  have,  at  the  same  early  period,  the  most  distinct  perceptions 
of  the  same  kind.     The  young  partridge,  almost  as  soon  as  it 
comes  from  the  shell,  runs  about  among  long  grass  and  com,  the 
young  grouse  among  long  heath ;  and  both  would  most  essen- 
tially hurt  themselves,  if  they  had  not  the  most  acute  as  well  as 
distinct  perception  of  the  tangible  objects,  which  not  only  sur- 
round them,  but  press  upon  them  on  all  sides.     This  is  the  case, 
too,  with  the  young  of  the  goose,  of  the  duck,  and,  so  far  as  I 
have  been  able  to  observe,  with  those  of  at  least  the  greater 
part  of  the  birds  which  make  their  nests  upon  the  ground,  with 
the  greater  part  of  those  which  are  ranked  by  Linn^us  in  the 
orders  of  the  hen  and  the  goose,  and  of  many  of  those  long- 
shanked  and  wading  birds  which  he  places  in  the  order  that  he 

distinguishes  by  the  name  of  Grallce 

*|  It  seems  difticult  to  suppose  that  man  is  the  only  animal  of 
which  the  young  are  not  endowed  with  some  instinctive  per- 
ception of  this  kind.  The  young  of  the  human  species,  however, 
continue  so  long  in  a  state  of  entire  dependency,  they  must  be 
so  long  carried  about  in  the  arms  of  their  mothers  or  of  their 
nurses,  that  such  an  instinctive  perception  may  seem  less  neces- 
sary to  them  than  to  any  other  race  of  annuals.     Before  it  could 


388 


VISUAL  PERCEPTION  OF  DISTANCE. 


I 


be  of  any  use  to  them,  observation  and  experience  may,  by  the 
known  principle  of  the  association  of  ideas,  have  sufficiently 
connected  in  their  young  minds  each  visible  object  with  the 
corresponding  tangible  one  wliich  it  is  fitted  to  represent.  Na- 
ture, it  may  be  said,  never  bestows  upon  any  animal  any  faculty 
wliich  is  not  either  necessary  or  useful ;  and  an  instinct  of  this 
kind  would  be  altogether  useless  to  an  animal  which  must  neces- 
sarily acquire  the  knowledge  which  the  instinct  is  given  to 
supply,  long  before  that  instinct  could  be  of  any  use  to  it. 

Children,  however,  appear  at  so  very  early  a  period  to  know 
the  distance,  the  shape,  and  magnitude  of  the  different  tangible 
objects  which  are  presented  to  them,  that  I  am  disposed  to 
believe  that  even  they  may  have  some  instinctive  perception  of 
this  kind ;  thougli  possibly  in  a  much  weaker  degree  than  the 
greater  part  of  other  animals.  A  child  that  is  scarcely  a  month 
old,  stretches  out  its  hands  to  feel  any  little  plaything  that  is 
presented  to  it.  It  distinguishes  its  nurse,  and  the  other  people 
who  are  much  about  it,  from  strangers.  It  clings  to  the  former, 
and  turns  away  from  the  latter.  Hold  a  small  looking-glass 
before  a  child  of  not  more  than  two  or  three  months  old,  and  it 
will  stretch  out  its  httle  arms  behind  the  glass,  in  order  to  feel 
the  child  which  it  sees,  and  which  it  imagines  is  at  the  back  of 
the  glass.  It  is  deceived,  no  doubt;  but  even  this  sort  of 
deception  sufficiently  demonstrates,  that  it  has  a  tolerably  dis- 
tinct ap[)reliension  of  the  ordinary  perspective  of  Vision,  which 
it  cannot  well  have  learnt  from  observation  and  experience."  * 

*  [That  animals  should  be  enabled  hy  instinct  to  see  as  soon  as  they  are 
born,  while  man,  gifted  with  reason,  is  obliged  to  learn  slowly,  through  ex- 
perience, how  to  sec,  —  is  no  more  remarkable  than  that  birds  and  spiders 
should  be  taught  by  instinct,  without  experience  or  instruction,  how  to  con- 
struct their  habitations  and  nets,  while  man  can  build  neither  except  he  has 
had  opportunities  to  learn  from  others,  or  from  his  own  unsuccessful  eftbrts. 
It  is  the  distinguishing  peculiarity  of  instinct  to  learn  nothing  from  experi- 
ence, and  of  reason  to  learn  every  thing  from  experience].  —  Ain.  Ed. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY.  -  RECAPITULATION.  -  II.  SELF- 

CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Having  concluded  the  consideration  of  External  Perception 
^d  sj^j  ,„  what  pnncpal  respects  the  doctrine  I  would  mai„: 

list  h  r     ''  ;'  ^'^  '''"'  ^'^^^*^''  ^''-  I  -PPO- 
always  to  hold,  :n  reabty,  the  system  of  an  Intuitive  Percep- 

y^for^  doctrine  of  Perception,  in  contrast  to  that  of  Heid 

//.         n  .      ^  ^^J  Perception  (proper)  is  the  JSTo- 

Honor  Conception  of  an  object  instinctively  su'JteJ,  e.cite.Z 

SaLTr^::;: ''"'"'''  "^'  -  ~--'  -  -  ^^^  ^'>-  of 

form"  i  "L"""'"^: '  '""'  '■"  ^''""''''  "'=''  ^^  ^•''•-P'-"'  i"  either 
form  i»  an  .mmedtate  or  presentative,  not  a  mediate  or  repre- 

sentatwe,  cogmt.on,  that  a  Perception  proper  is  not,  and  ought 

not  to  be  called,  a  Notion  or  Conception.     And  P  hold  in  pS- 

*  I  here  contrast  my  own  doctrine  of  perception  with  th^f  nf  ,!.«    i-i 
ophc.  in  question,  not  because  .heir  vi^ws  a'n ;  X' a^l^e  at  fl  he^^^^^ 

O..S  fol  owers  are  in  almost  all  respects  at  one)  is  ambiguous      Fo    wtnl! 

ofIrr\;T    ■  »  '  "^'  "="'"•  "PP'^'"-  °"'y  compatible  with  thee 

tr  ne  ^T  rf  "^^"^^T'T'""'-  ""'"'-""'S.  -  1 1  the  fonncr  o" 
tnne  t  .s,  of  course,  only  the  positions  conformable  to  the  latter  which 
It  18,  at  present,  necessary  to  adduce. 

^^*  (389) 


390 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  PERCEPTION. 


ticular,  that,  on  the  one  hand,  in  the  consciousness  of  sensations, 
out  of  each  other,  contrasted,  hmited,  and  variously  arranged, 
we  have  a  Perception  proper  of  the  Primary  qualities',  in  an 
externality  to  the  mind,  though  not  to  the  nervous  organism,  as 
an  immediate  cognition,  and  not  merely  as  a  notion  or  concept 
of  something  extended,  figured,  etc. ;  and  on  the  other,  as  a  cor- 
relative contained  in  the  consciousness  of  our  voluntary  motive 
eijergy  resisted,  and  not  resisted  by  aught  within  the  limits  of 
mmd  and  its  subservient  organs,  we  have  a  Perception  proper 
of  the  Secundo-primary  quality  of  resistance,  in  an  extra-or- 
ganic force,  as  an  immediate  cognition,  and  not  merely  as  a  no- 
tion or  concept,  of  a  resisting  something  external  to  our  body  ;  — 
though  certainly  in  either  case,  there  may  be,  and  probably  is, 
a  concomitant  act  of  imagination,  by  which  the  whole  complex 
consciousness  on  the  occasion  is  filled  up. 

2.  [They  hold  that,]  on  occasion  of  the  Sensation  (proper), 
along  with  the  notion  or  conception  which  constitutes  the  Per- 
ception (proper)  of  the  external  object,  there  is  hlindly  created 
in  us,  or  instinctively  determined,  an  invincible  belief  in  its  exist- 
ence. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  we  only  believe  in  the  existence 
of  what  we  perceive,  as  extended,  figured,  resisting,  etc.,  inas- 
much as  we  believe  that  we  are  conscious  of  these  qualities  as 
existing  ;  consequently,  that  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  an  ex- 
tended world,  external  to  the  mind,  and  even  external  to  the 
organism,  is  not  a  faith  blindly  created  or  instinctively  deter- 
mined, in  supplement  of  a  represeniative  or  mediate  cognition, 
but  exists  in,  as  an  integral  constituent  of.  Perception  proper,  as 
an  act  of  intuitive  or  immediate  knowledge. 

3.  [They  hold  that]  the  object  of  Perception  (proper)  is  a 
conclusion,  or  inference,  or  result  (instinctive,  indeed,  not  ratioc- 
inative),  from  a  Sensation  proper. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  the  object  of  Perception  proper 
is  given  immediately,  in  and  along  with  the  object  of  Sensation 
proper. 

4.  [They  hold  that]  Sensation  (proper)  precedes,  Perception 

(proper)  follows. 


I 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  PERCEPTION. 


391 


On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  though  Sensation  proper  be  the 
condition  of,  and  therefore  anterior  to,  Perception  proper  in  the 
order  of  nature,  that,  in  the  order  of  time,  both  are  necessarily 
coexistent,  — the  latter  being  only  realized  in  and  through  the 
present  existence  of  the  former.  Thus,  visual  extension  cannot 
be  perceived,  or  even  imagined,  except  under  the  sensation  of 
color ;  while  color,  again,  cannot  be  apprehended  or  imagined, 
without,  respectively,  a  concomitant  apprehension  or  phantasm 
of  extension. 

5.  [They  hold  that]  Sensation  (proper)  is  not  only  an  ante- 
cedent, but  an  arbitrary  antecedent,  of  Perception  (proper).  The 
former  is  only  a  sign  on  occasion  of  which  the  latter  follows ; 
they  have  no  necessary  or  even  natural  connection ;  ind  it  is 
only  by  the  will  of  God,  that  we  do  not  perceive  the  quahties  of 
external  objects  independently  of  any  sensitive  affection.  This 
last,  indeed,  seems  to  be  actually  the  case  in  the  perception  of 
visible  extension  and  figure. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold  that  Sensation  proper  is  the  universal 
condition  of  Perception  proper.  We  are  never  aware  even  of 
the  existence  of  our  organism  except  as  it  is  somehow  affected ; 
and  are  only  conscious  of  extension,  figure,  and  the  other  objects' 
of  Perception  proper,  as  realized  in  the  relations  of  the  affec- 
tions of  our  sentient  organism,  as  a  body  extended,  figured,  etc. 
As  to  color  and  visible  extension,  neither  can  be  apprehended, 
neither  can  be  even  imagined,  apart  from  the  other. 

6.  [They  hold  that,]  in  a  Sensation  (proper)  of  the  Secondary 
qualities,  as  affections  in  us,  we  have  a  Perception  (proper)  of 
them  as  properties  in  objects  and  causes  of  the  affections  in  us. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  as  Perception  proper  is  an  im- 
mediate cognition  ;  and  as  the  Secondary  qualities,  in  bodies,  are 
only  inferred,  and  therefore  only  mediately  known  to  exist,  as 
occult  causes  of  manifest  effects ;  that  these,  at  best  only  objects 
of  a  mediate  knowledge,  are  not  objects  of  Perception. 

7.  [They  hold  that,]  in  like  manner,  in  the  case  of  various 
other  bodily  affections,  as  the  toothache,  gout,  etc.,  we  have  not 
only  a  Sensation  proper  of  the  painful  feeling,  but  a  conception 
and  belief,  i.  e.  a  Perception  (proper),  of  its  cause. 


I 
r- 
fl 


392 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  PERCEPTION. 


On  the  contrary,  and  for  the  same  reason,  I  hold,  that  there 
is  in  this  case  no  such  Perception. 

8.    [They  hold  that]  Sensation  (proper)  is  an  affection  purely 
of  the  mind,  and  not  in  any  way  an  affection  of  the  body. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold  with  Aristotle,  indeed,  with  philoso- 
phers in  general,  that  Sensation  is  an  affection  neither  of  the 
body  alone,  nor  of  the  mind  alone,  but  of  the  composite  of  winch 
each  is  a  constituent ;  and  that  the  subject  of  Sensation  may  be 
indifferently  said  to  be  our  organism  (as  animated),  or  our  soul 
(as  united  with  an  organism).  For  instance,  hunger  or  color 
are,  as  apprehended,  neither  modes  of  mind  apart  from  body, 
nor  modes  of  body  apart  from  mind. 

9.  [They  hold  that]  Sensations  (proper),  as  merely  affections 
Qf  the  mind,  have  no  locality  in  the  body,  no  locahty  at  all. 
Trom  this  the  inference  is  necessary,  that,  though  conscious  of 
the  relative  place  and  reciprocal  outness  of  sensations,  we  do 
not,  in  this  consciousness,  apprehend  any  real  externality  and 

extension. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  Sensation  proper,  being  the  con- 
sciousness of  an  affection,  not  of  the  mind  alone,  but  of  the 
mind  as  it  is  united  with  the  body,  that  in  the  consciousness  of 
sensations,  relatively  localized  and  reciprocally  external,  we  have 
a  veritable  apprehension,  and  consequently,  an  immediate  per- 
ception, of  the  affected  organism,  as  extended,  divided,  figured, 
etc.     This  alone  is  the  doctrine  of  Natural  Reahsm,  of  Common 

Sense.  \       j 

10.  [They  hold  that,]  in  the  case  of  Sensation  (proper)  and 
the  Secondary  qualities,  there  is  a  determinate  quality  in  certain 
bodies,  exclusively  competent  to  cause  a  determinate  sensation 
in  us,  as  color,  odor,  savor,  etc. ;  consequently,  that  from  the 
fact  of  a  similar  internal  effect,  we  are  warranted  to  infer  the 
existence  of  a  similar  external  concause. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  a  similar  sensation  only  implies 
a  similar  idiopathic  affection  of  the  nervous  organism  ;  but  such 
affection  requires  only  the  excitation  of  an  appropriate  stimulus ; 
while  such  stimulus  may  be  supplied  by  manifold  agents  of  the 
most  opposite  nature,  both  from  within  the  body  and  from  with- 
out. 


\' 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  PERCEPTION.  393 

11.   [They  hold  that]  Perception  excludes  mmor„;  Percen- 

t.on  (proper)  cannot  therefore  be  apprehensive  of  Ztion.       "^ 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  as  memory,  or  a  certain  con 

muous  representation,  is  a  condition  of  consciousne  Jit  I  a' 

cond,t,on  of  Perception ;    and  that  motion,  therefore    cannot 

onjns  „^ound,  be  denied  a.  an  object  a;prehended  tZ^^ 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  in  general,  that  as  all  consciousness 
.3  reahzed  only  in  the  apprehension  of  the  relations  of  pS  ty 
and  con  rast;  and  as  perception  is  a  consciousness,-  tlJthT2 
prehension  of  relation  cannot,  simpliciter,  be  deni  d  to  percep- 
t.on:  and,  m  particular,  that  unless  we  annihilate  PerceZn 
proper  by  denying  to  it  the  recognition  of  its  peculiar  obC 

deny  to  It  the  recognu.on  of  relations ;  for,-to  say  nothin.  of  the 

o  "f's^rt"""  "^  I'T"-<l-'r  in  apprehending  senCl 
out  of  sen  at,ons-a  relation ;  and  Figure  is  only  ;erceived  in 
app.-ehendmg  one  perceived  extension  as  limited,  an'  limited  in 
a  <^;«'^'"  manner  by  another -a  complexus  of  relations. 

tiof  (prop5  "'^  '""""  "^"''"  ^^-^  ""^J-'^  °f  P-eep- 

he    ecprocal  relations  of  these  affections,  and  the  correlative 
mWd  m  the  consciousness  of  its  locomotive  energy  being  re! 

U.    [They  hold  that]  objects  not  in  contact  with  the  orn^ans 
of  sense  are  perceived  by  a  medium.  " 

or?,l  Zrr'^rl  'f''  '"'  ""  °"'^  •"'J^'^'  P---<J  -  the 
Snl     '      "     ''''  "  "*"'  "  ^  "'""'''  -'*  '^'^  -gan,  a. 

O* 

15.   [They  hold  that]  £^ens{on  and  Figure  are  first  perceived 
through  the  sensations  of  ToucL  perteivea 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that,  (unless  by  Extension  be  under- 
stood only  extension  in  the  three  dunensions,  a.  Reid  in  fact 


fl 

'I  I   I 


394 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  PERCEPTION. 


seems  to  do,  but  not  Stewart,)  this  is  erroneous ;  for  an  extension 
is  apprehended  in  the  apprehension  of  the  reciprocal  extemahty 
of  all  sensations.  Moreover,  to  allow  even  the  statement  as 
thus  restricted  to  pass,  it  would  be  necessary  to  suppose,  that 
under  Touch,  it  is  meant  to  comprehend  the  consciousness  of  the 
Locomotive  energy  and  of  the  Muscular  feehngs. 

1 6.  [They  hold  that]  Externality  is  exclusively  perceived  on 
occasion  of  the  sensations  of  Touch. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  it  is,  primarily,  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  our  locomotive  energy  being  resisted,  and,  secondarily, 
through  the  sensations  of  muscular  feeling,  that  the  perception 
of  Externality  is  realized.  All  this,  however,  might  be  con- 
fusedly involved  in  the  Touch  of  the  philosophers  in  question. 

17.  [They  hold  that]  real  (or  absolute)  magnitude  is  an  ob- 
ject of  perception  (proper)  through  Touch,  but  through  Touch 
only. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  the  magnitude  perceived  through 
touch  is  as  purely  relative  as  that  perceived  through  vision  or 
any  other  sense ;  for  the  same  magnitude  does  not  appear  the 
same  to  touch  at  one  part  of  the  body  and  to  touch  at  another. 

18.  [They  hold  that]  Color,  thougli  a  Secondary  quality,  is 
an  object,  not  of  Sensation  (proper),  but  of  Perception  (proper)  ; 
in  other  words,  we  perceive  Color,  not  as  an  affection  of  our 
own  minds,  but  as  a  quality  of  external  things. 

On  the  contrary,  I  hold,  that  Color,  in  itself,  as  apprehended 
or  immediately  known  by  us,  is  a  mere  affection  of  the  sentient 
organism ;  and  therefore,  like  the  other  Secondary  qualities,  an 
object  not  of  Perception,  but  of  Sensation,  proper.  The  only 
distinguishing  peculiarity  in  this  case  lies  in  the  three  following 
circumstances :  —  a)  That  the  organic  affection  of  Color,  though 
not  altogether  indifferent,  still,  being  accompanied  by  compara- 
tively little  pleasure,  comparatively  little  pain,  the  apprehension 
of  this  affection,  qua  affection,  i.  e.  its  Sensation  pi'oper,  is,  con- 
sequently, always  at  a  minimum.  —  b)  That  the  passion  of  Color 
first  rising  into  consciousness,  not  from  the  amount  of  the  inten- 
sive quantity  of  the  affection,  but  from  the  amount  of  the  exten- 
sive quantity  of  the  organism  affected,  is  necessarily  apprehended 


INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.        395 

under  the  condition  of  extension. -^  c)  That  the  isolation,  tenu- 
ity, and  delicacy  of  the  ultimate  filaments  of  the  optic  nerve 
afford  us  sensations  minutely  and  precisely  distinguished,  sensa- 
tions reahzed  in  consciousness  only  as  we  are  conscious  of  them 
as  out  of  each  other  in  space.  — These  circumstances  show,  that 
while,  m  vision,  Perception  proper  is  at  its  maximum,  and  Sen- 
sation proper  at  its  minimum,  the  sensation  of  Color  cannot  be 
realized  apart  from  the  perception  of  extension :  but  they  do 
not  warrant  the  assertions,  that  Color  is  not,  like  the  other  Sec- 
ondary qualities,  apprehended  by  us  as  a  mere  sensorial  affection, 
and,  therefore,  an  object,  not  of  Sensation  proper,  but  of  Percept 
tion  proper.]  —  Diss.  supp.  to  Reid. 

Sensation  and  Perception  do  not  always  coexist  in  the  same 
degree  of  intensity,  but  they  are  equally  original ;  and  it  is  only 
by  an  act  not  of  the  easiest  abstraction,  that  we  are  able  to  dis- 
criminate them  scientifically  from  each  other.  So  much  for 
the  first  of  the  two  faculties  by  which  we  acquire  knowledge,— 
the  faculty  of  External  Perception. 

Thefacxilty  of  Self -consciousness. —  The  second  of  these  fac- 
ulties is  Self-consciousness,  which  has  likewise  received,  among 
others,  the  name  of  Internal  or  Reflex  Perception.  This  facul- 
ty will  not  occupy  us  long,  as  the  principal  questions  regarding 
Its  nature  and  operation  have  been  already  considered,  in  treat- 
ing of  Consciousness  in  general. 

I  formerly  showed  that  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  Percep- 
tion, or  the  other  Special  Faculties,  from  Consciousness,  —  in 
other  words,  to  reduce  Consciousness  itself  to  a  special  faculty ; 
and  that  the  attempt  to  do  so  by  the  Scottish  philosophers  is 
self-contradictory.     I  stated,  however,  that  though  it  be  incom- 
petent to  establish  a  faculty  for  the  immediate  knowledge  of  the 
external  world,  and  a  faculty  for  the  immediate  knowledge  of 
the  internal,  as  two  ultimate  powers,  exclusive  of  each  other, 
and  not  merely  subordinate  forms  of  a  higher  immediate  knowl- 
edge, under  which  they  are  comprehended  or  carried  up  into 
one,  — I  stated,  I  say,  that  though  the  immediate  knowledges  of 
matter  and  of  mind  are  still  only  modifications  of  Consciousness, 
yet  that  their  discrimination,  as  subaltern  faculties,  is  both  al- 


896       INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

lowable  and  convenient.  Accordingly,  in  the  scheme  which  I 
gave  you  of  the  distribution  of  Consciousness  into  its  special 
modes,  — I  distinguished  a  fecuhy  of  External,  and  a  faculty  of 
Internal,  Apprehension,  constituting  together  a  more  general 
modification  of  Consciousness,  which  I  caUed  the  Acquisitive,  or 
Presentative,  or  Receptive  Faculty. 

In  regard  to  Self-consciousness,  —  the  faculty  of  Internal 
Experience,  — philosophers  have  been  far  more  harmonious 
than  in  regard  to  External  Perception.  In  fact,  their  difter- 
ences  touching  this  faculty  originate  rather  in  the  ambiguities  of 
lan-ua-e,  and  the  dilferent  meanings  attached  to  the  same  form 
of  expression,  than  in  any  fundamental  opposition  of  opinion  m 
re-ard  to  its  reaUty  and  nature.  It  is  admitted  equally  by  all 
tol^xist,  and  to  exist  as  a  source  of  knowledge ;  and  the  supposed 
differences  of  philosophers  in  this  respect  are,  as  I  shall  show 
you,  mere  errors  in  the  historical  statement  of  their  opmions. 

Self-consciousness  contrasted  with  Perception.- The  sphere 
and  character  of  this  faculty  of  acquisition  will  be  best  illus- 
trated by  contrasting  it  with  the  other.  Perception  is  the  power 
by  which  we  are  made  aware  of  the  phaMiomena  of  the  Exter- 
nal world ;  Self-consciousness,  the  power  by  which  we  apprehend 
the  phcenomena  of  the  Internal.  The  objects  of  the  former  are 
all  presented  to  us  in  Space  and  Time ;  space  and  time  are  thus 
the  two  conditions,  — the  two  fundamental  forms,  of  External 
Perception.*     The  objects  of  the  latter  are  all  apprehended  by 

*  [Kant,  first,  made  our  actual  world  one  merely  of  illusion.  Time  and 
Space,  under  which  we  must  perceive  and  think,  he  reduced  to  mere  sub- 
jective spectral  forms,  which  have  no  real  archetype  in  the  noumena  or 
real  universe.  We  can  infer  nothing  from  this,  [the  actual,  world,]  to  that, 
[the  noumenal  or  real  universe.  The  law  of]  Cause  and  Effect  governs 
thine  and  thought  in  the  world  of  Space  and  Time;  [this  law  does]  not 
subsist  where  Time  and  Space  have  no  reality.  Kant,  secondly,  made 
Reason,  Intelligence,  contradict  itself  in  its  legitimate  exercise.  Antinoniy 
[contradiction]  is  part  and  parcel  of  its  nature.  Thus,  scepticism -the 
conviction  that  we  live  in  a  world  of  unreality  and  illusion,  and  that  our 
Tery  fViculty  of  knowledge  is  only  given  us  to  mislead,  is  the  result  ot 

[Kant's  philosophvj. 
On  the  contrary,  my  doctrine  holds,  first,  that  Space  and  Time,  as  given. 


I 


:./ 


\) 


'■|, 


i\ 


INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.        397 

US  in  Tinje  and  in  Self ;  time  and  self  are  thus  the  two  condi- 
^ons  -the  two  fundamental  forms,  of  Internal  Perception  or 
Sdf-consc,ousness.  Time  is  thus  a  form  or  condition  common  to 
both  fa^ul  ;es ;  while  Space  is  a  form  peculiar  to  the  one,  Setf  a 

zrTrr  '°r "'?  """" '  '"'^■^"  -^  the/.™;:!! 

dUton  of  a  faculty,  ,s  that  frame, -that  setting  (if  I  may  so 
speak)  out  of  which  no  object  can  be  known.  Thus,  we  on  y 
know  .hroug  Self  consciousness,  the  phenomena  of  .hJ  Ze^Il 
world,  as  mod,ficat.ons  of  the  indivisible  Ego  or  conscious  unit; 

sphere,  it  never  deceives-  and  it    ,1,       k   '       ''e.t.mate;  within  this 

parently  objective  opposition  to  itself  -its  nure  «nd  rloi  ^" 

fications     Yot  wi,;i^V      •  ,  ^        ^°^  ^^^^  subjective  modi- 

ncations.    Yet,  wJuIe  he  gives  up  the  external  existence  of  space  as  bevond 

he  sphere  of  consciousness,  he  holds  the  reality  of  externTm at rit? 

riu  le  J  i:  ^"-i^'  -''-'  -  ^^-"^  Cdirs  oT 

consciousness.     It  was  incumbent  on  him  to  render  a  reason  for  this  seem 
oo*„kr  u    I  ""'versai  laealism  ;  and  he  has  accordino-Iv  attemnfod  tr. 

rredi^irrrnr"' "  p..-ph,oon!d\rs: 

Kant  endeavored  to  evince  that  pure  Reason,  that  IntelhVence   is  nata 

ing  scepticism  is  the  melancholv  rP^nU      ifju        ^  peivaa- 

^„o  ;      UM        ,    ""^ '"^''^"^"O'y  result.     If  I  have  done  any  thino- mentnri 

ridittr  Lho' '"  T  T-"' '"  ^''p'^'"  '"^  phion.en'aTrr; 

84 


398        INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

we  only  know,  through  Perception,  the  phaenomena  of  the  Exter- 
nal world,  under  Space,  or  as  modifications  of  the  extended  and 
divisible  Non-ego  or  known  i)lurality.  That  the  forms  are  na- 
tive, not  adventitious,  to  the  mind,  is  involved  in  their  necessity. 
What  I  cannot  but  think,  must  be  a  priori,  or  original  to 
thought ;  it  cannot  be  engendered  by  experience  upon  custom. 
But  this  is  not  a  subject  the  discussion  of  which  concerns  us  at 
present. 

It  may  be  asked,  if  self,  or  Ego,  be  the  form  of  Self-conscious- 
ne-  ,  why  is  the  not-self,  the  Non-ego,  not  in  like  manner  called 
the  form  of  Perception  ?  To  this  I  reply,  that  the  not-self  is 
only  a  negation,  and,  though  it  discriminates  the  objects  of  the 
external  cognition  from  those  of  the  internal,  it  does  not  afford 
to  the  former  any  positive  bond  of  union  among  themselves. 
This,  on  the  contrary,  is  supphed  to  them  by  the  form  of  Space, 
out  of  which  they  can  neither  be  perceived,  nor  imagined  by  the 
mind  ;  —  Space,  therefore,  as  the  positive  condition  under  which 
the  Non-ego  is  necessarily  known  and  imagined,  and  through 
which  it  receives  its  unity  in  consciousness,  is  properly  said  to 
afford  the  condition,  or  fortn,  of  External  Perception. 

The  mitid  itself  is  not  extended.  —  But  a  more  important 
question  may  be  started.  If  Space,  —  if  extension,  be  a  neces- 
sary form  of  thought,  this,  it  may  be  argued,  proves  that  the 
mind  itself  is  extended.  The  reasoning  here  proceeds  upon  the 
assumption,  that  the  qualities  of  the  subject  knowing  must  be 
similar  to  the  qualities  of  the  object  known.  This,  as  I  have 
already  stated,  is  a  mere  philosophical  crotchet,  —  an  assumption 
without  a  shadow  even  of  probability  in  its  favor.  That  the 
mind  has  the  power  of  perceiving  extended  objects,  is  no  ground 
for  holding  that  it  is  itself  extended.  Still  less  can  it  be  main- 
tained, that  because  it  has  ideally  a  native  or  necessary  concep- 
tion of  space,  it  must  really  occupy  space.  Nothing  can  be 
more  absurd.  On  this  doctrine,  to  exist  as  extended  is  supposed 
necessary  in  order  to  think  extension.  But  if  this  analogy  hold 
good,  the  sphere  of  ideal  space,  which  the  mind  can  imagine, 
ought  to  be  limited  to  the  sphere,  of  real  space  which  the  mind 
actually  fills.     This  is  not,  however,  the  case ;  for  though  the 


/ 


f1 


INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS         399 

mind  be  not  absolutely  unlimited  in  its  power  of  conceiving 
space,  still  the  compass  of  thought  may  be  viewed  as  infinite  in 
this  respect,  as  contrasted  with  the  petty  point  of  extension, 
which  the  advocates  of  the  doctrine  in  question  allow  it  to  oc- 
cupy in  its  corporeal  domicil. 

Two  modes  of  treating  the  yhcenomena  of  Self -consciousness, 
—  The  faculty  of  self-consciousness  affords  us  a  knowledge  of 
the  phenomena  of  our  minds.     It  is  the  source  of  internal  ex- 
perience.     You  will,  therefore,  observe,  that,  like  External  Per- 
ception, it  only  furnishes  us  with  facts ;  and  that  the  use  we 
make  of  these  facts,  —  that  is,  what  we  find  in  them,  whafwe 
deduce  from  them,  —  belongs  to  a  different  process  of  intelli- 
gence.    Self-consciousness  affords  the  materials  equally  to  all 
systems  of  philosophy ;  all  equally  admit  it,  and  all  elaborate 
the  materials  which  this  faculty  suppHes,  according  to  their 
fashion.     And  here  I  may  merely  notice,  by  the  way,  what,  in 
treatmg  of  the  Regulative  Faculty,  will  fall  to  be  regularly  dis- 
cussed, that  these  facts,  these  materials,  may  be  considered  in 
two  ways.      We  may  employ  either  Induction  alone,  or  also 
Analysis.    If  we  merely  consider  the  pha3nomena  which  Self-con- 
sciousness reveals,  in  relation  to  each  other,  —  merely  compare 
them  together,  and  generalize  the  qualities  which  they  display 
in  common,  and  thus  arrange  them  into  classes  or  groups  gov- 
erned by  the  same  laws,  we  perform  the  process  of  Induction. 
By  this  process,  we  obtain  what  is  general,  but  not  what  is  neces- 
sary.    For  example,  having  observed  that  external  objects  pre- 
sented in  perception  are  extended,  we  generalize  the  notion  of 
extension  or  space.     We  have  thus  explained  the  possibihty  of 
a  conception  of  space,  but  only  of  space  as  a  general  and  contin- 
gent notion ;  for  if  we  hold  that  this  notion  exists  in  the  mind 
only  as  the  result  of  such  a  process,  we  must  hold  it  to  be  a  pos- 
teriori or  adventitious,  and,  therefore,  contingent.     Such  is  the 
process  of   Induction,  or  of  Simple   Observation.     The  other 
process,  that  of  Analysis  or  Criticism,  does  not  rest  satisfied 
with  this  comparison   and   generalization,  which   it,   however, 
supposes.    It  proposes,  not  merely  to  find  what  is  general  in  the 
phjenomena,  but  what  is  necessary  and  universal    It,  accordingly, 


400       INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

takes  mental  phsenomena,  and,  by  abstraction,  throws  aside  all 
that  it  is  able  to  detach,  without  annihihiting  the  phagnomena 
altogether ;  —  in  short,  it  analyzes  thought  into  its  essential  or 
necessary,  and  its  accidental  or  contingent,  elements. 

All  necessity  to  us  is  subjective.  —  Thus,  from  Observation  and 
Induction,  we  discover  what  experience  affords  as  its  general 
result ;  from  Analysis  and  Criticism,  we  discover  what  experi- 
ence supposes  as  its  necessary  condition.  You  will  notice,  that 
the  critical  analysis  of  which  I  now  speak,  is  limited  to  the 
objects  of  our  internal  observation ;  for  in  the  phaenomena  of 
mind  alone  can  we  be  conscious  of  absolute  necessity.  All  ne- 
cessity is,  in  fact,  to  us  subjective ;  for  a  thing  is  conceived 
impossible,  only  as  we  are  unable  to  construe  it  in  thought. 
Wliatever  does  not  violate  the  laws  of  thought  is,  therefore,  not 
to  us  impossible,  however  firmly  we  may  believe  that  it  will  not 
occur.  For  example,  we  'hold  it  absolutely  impossible,  that  a 
thing  can  begin  to  be  without  a  cause.  Wliy  ?  Simply  because 
the  mind  cannot  realize  to  itself  the  conception  of  absolute  com- 
mencement. That  a  stone  should  ascend  into  the  air,  we  firmly 
believe  will  never  happen ;  but  we  find  no  difficulty  in  conceiv- 
ing it  possible.  Why  ?  Merely  because  gravitation  is  only  a 
fact  generalized  by  induction  and  observation  ;  and  its  negation, 
therefore,  violates  no  law  of  thought.  When  we  talk,  therefore, 
of  the  necessity  of  any  external  phoenomenon,  the  expression  is 
improper,  if  the  necessity  be  only  an  inference  of  induction,  and 
not  involved  in  any  canon  of  intelligence.  For  Induction  proves 
to  us  onli/  wJiat  is,  not  ivhat  must  he,  —  the  actual,  not  the  nec- 
essary. 

Use  of  the  Inductive  and  Critical  Methods  in  philosophy.  — 
The  two  processes  of  Induction  or  Observation,  and  of  Analysis 
or  Criticism,  have  been  variously  employed  by  different  philos- 
ophers. Locke,  for  instance,  limited  himself  to  the  former, 
overlooking  altogether  the  latter.  He,  accordingly,  discovered 
nothing  necessary,  or  a  priori,  in  the  phaenomena  of  our  inter- 
nal experience.  To  him,  all  axioms  are  only  generalizations  of 
experience.  In  this  respect,  he  was  greatly  excelled  by  Descar- 
tes and  Leibnitz.     The  latter,  indeed,  was  the  philosopher  who 


INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.        401 

clearly  enunciated  the  principle,  that  the  phenomenon  of  neces- 
sity, m  our  cognitions,  could  not  be  explained  on  the  ground  of 
experience.     "  All  the  examples,"  he  says, "  which  confirm  a  gen- 
eral truth,  how  numerous  soever,  would  not  suffice  to  establish  the 
universal  necessity  of  this  same  truth ;  for  it  does  not  follow,  that 
what  has  hitherto  occurred  will  always  occur  in  future."     "If 
Locke,"  he  adds,  "  had  sufficiently  considered  the  difference  be- 
tween truths  which  are  necessary  or  demonstrative,  and  those 
which  we  infer  from  induction  alone,  he  would  have  perceived 
that  necessary  truths  could  only  be  proved  from  principles  which 
command  our  assent  by  their  intuitive  evidence ;  inasmuch  as 
our  senses  can  inform  us  only  of  what  is,  not  of  what  must 
necessarily  be."      Leibnitz,   however,   was   not   himself  fully 
aware  of  the  import  of  the  principle;  — at  least,  he  failed  in 
carrying  it  out  to  its  most  important  applications ;  and  though 
he  triumphantly  demonstrated,  in  opposition  to  Locke,  the  a 
priori  chai-acter  of  many  of  those  cognitions  which  Locke  had 
derived  from  experience,  yet  he  left  to  Kant  the  honor  of  having 
been  the  first  who  fully  appHed  the  Critical  analysis  in  the  phi- 
losophy of  mind. 

Has  Locke  been  misrepresented  by  his  French  disciples?  — 
The  faculty  of  Self-consciousness  corresponds  with  the  Reflec- 
tion of  Locke.     Now,  there  is  an  interesting  question  concem- 
mg  this  faculty ;  — whether  the  philosophy  of  Locke  has  been 
misapprehended  and  misrepresented  by  Condillac,  and  other  of 
his  French  disciples,  as  Mr.  Stewart  maintains ;  or,  whether 
Mr.  Stewart  has  not  himself  attempted  to  vindicate  the  tendency 
of  Locke's  philosophy  on  grounds  which  will  not  bear  out  his 
conclusions.     Mr.  Stewart  has  canvassed  this  point  at  consider- 
able length,  [and  by  him]   the  point  at  issue  is  thus  briefly 
stated :  "  the  objections  to  which   Locke's  doctrine  concerning 
the  origin   of  our  ideas,   or,  in  other   words,  concerning   the 
sources  of  our  knowledge,  are,  in  my  judgment,  hable,  I  have 
stated  so  fully  in  a  former  work,  that  I  shall  not  touch  on  them 
here.     L  is  quite  sufficient,  on  the  present  occasion,  to  remark, 
how  very  unjustly  this  doctrine  (impeifect,  on  the  most  favor-' 
-^  construction,  as  it  undoubtedly  is)  has  been  confounded 

^^  34* 


•i 


402        INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

with  those  of  Gassendi,  of  Condillac,  of  Diderot,  and  of  Home 
Tooke.     The  substance  of  all  that  is  common  in  the  conclusions 
of  these  last  writers,  cannot  be  better  expressed  than  in  the 
words  of  their  master,  Gassendi.     '  All  our  knowledge,'  he  ob- 
serves in  a  letter  to  Descartes,  *  appears  plainly  to  derive  its 
origin  from   the  senses  ;  and  although  you   deny  the  maxim, 
"  Quicquid  est  intellcctu  pra;esse  debere  in  sensu,"  [Whatever 
is  in  the  intellect  must  have  previously  been  in  the  faculty  of 
sense,]  yet  this  maxim  appears,  nevertheless,  to  be  true  ;  since 
our  knowledge  is  all  ultimately  obtained  by  an  influx  or  incur- 
sion from  things  external ;  which  knowledge  afterwards  under- 
goes various  modifications,  by  means  of  analogy,  composition, 
division,  ampUfication,  extenuation,  and  other  similar  processes, 
which  it  is  unnecessary  to  enumerate.'    This  doctrine  of  Gassen- 
di's  coincides  exactly  with  that  ascribed  to  Locke  by  Diderot  and 
by  Home  Tooke ;  and  it  differs  only  verbally  from  the  more 
concise  statement  of  Condillac,  that  *  our  ideas  are  nothing  more 
than  transformed  sensations'     *  Every  idea,'  says  the  first  of 
these  writers,  '  must  necessarily,  when  brought  to  its  state  of 
ultimate  decomposition,  resolve  itself  into  a  sensible  representa- 
tion or  picture ;  and  since  every  thing  in  our  understanding  has 
been  introduced  there  by  the  channel  of  sensation,  whatever 
proceeds  out  of  the  understanding  is  either  chimerical,  or  must 
be  able,  in  returning  by  the  same  road,  to  reattach  itself  to  its 
sensible  archetype.     Hence  an  important  rule  in  philosophy,  — 
that  every  expression  which  cannot  find  an  external  and  a  sen- 
sible object,  to  which  it  can  thus  establish  its  affinity,  is  destitute 
of  signification.'     Such  is  the  exposition  given  by  Diderot,  of 
what  is  regarded  in  France  as  Locke's  great  and  capital  discov- 
ery ;  and  precisely  to  the  same  purpose  we  are  told  by  Condor- 
cet,  that  '  Locke  was  the  first  who  proved  that  all  our  ideas  are 
compounded  of  sensations.'     If  this  were  to  be  admitted  as  a 
fair  account  of  Locke's  opinion,  it  would  follow  that  he  has  not 
advanced  a  single  step  beyond  Gassendi  and  Hobbes ;  both  of 
whom  have  repeatedly  expressed  themselves  in  nearly  the  same 
words  with  Diderot  and  Condorcet.     But  although  it  must  be 
granted,  in  favor  of  their  interpretation  of  his   language,  thfi* 


INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.        403 

various  detached  passages  may  be  quoted  from  his  work,  which 
seem,  on  a  superficial  view,  to  justify  their  comments ;  yet  of 
what  weight,  it  may  be  asked,  are  these  passages,  when  com- 
pared with  the  stress  laid  by  the  author  on  Reflection,  as  an 
origioftl  source  of  our  ideas,  altogether  different  from  Sensation  ? 
<The  other  fountain,'  says  Locke,  <from  which  experience  fur- 
nisheth  the   understanding  with  ideas,  is  the  perception  of  the 
operations  of  our  own  minds  within  us,  as  it  is  employed  about 
the  ideas  it  has  got ;  which  operations,  when  the  soul  comes  to 
reflect  on  and  consider,  do  furnish  the  understanding  with  an- 
other set  of  ideas,  which  could  not  be  had  from  things  without ; 
and  such  are  Perception,  Thinking,  Doubting,  Believing,  Rea- 
soning, Knowing,  Willing,  and  all  the  different  actings  of  our 
own  minds,  which,  we  being  conscious  of,  and  observing  in  our- 
selves, do  from  these  receive  into  our  understandings  ideas  as 
distinct  as  we  do  from  bodies  affecting  our  senses.     This  source 
of  ideas  every  man  has  wholly  in  him_self ;  and  though  it  be  not 
sense,  as  having  nothing  to  do  with  external  objects,  yet  it  is 
very  like  it,  and  might  properly  enough  be  called  Menial  Sense, 
But  as  I  call  the  other  Sensation,  so  I  call  this  Reflection ;  the 
ideas  it  affords  being  such  only  as  the  mind  gets  by  reflecting  on 
its  own  operations  within  itself.'     Again,  <The  understanding 
seems  to  me  not  to  have  the  least  glimmering  of  any  ideas 
which  it  does  not  receive  from  one  of  these  two.     External 
objects  furnish  the  mind  with  the  ideas  of  sensible  quaUties ; 
and  the  mind  furnishes  the  understanding  with  ideas  of  its  own 
operation?,.'  " 

Stewart's  vindication  unsatisfactory.  —  On  these  observations 
I  must  remark,  that  they  do  not  at  aU  satisfy  me ;  and  I  cannot 
but  regard  Locke  and  Gassendi  as  exactly  upon  a  par,  and  both 
as  deriving  all  our  knowledge  from  experience.*  The  French 
philosophers  are,  therefore,  in  my  opinion,  fully  justified  in  their 
interpretation  of  Locke's  philosophy ;  and  Condillac  must,  I 
think,  be  viewed  as  having  simplified  the  doctrine  of  his  master, 
without  doing  the  smallest  violence  to  its  spirit.    Li  the  first  place, 

*  [True  ;  but  from  experience  hy  way  both  of  sensation  and  reflection  ;  and 
^ot  from  experience  by  way  of  sensation  alone.]  — Am.  Ed. 


\ 


404       INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

I  cannot  concur  with  Mr.  Stewart  in  allowing  any  weight  to 
Locke's  distinction  of  Reflection,  or  Self-consciousness,  as  a 
second  source  of  our  knowledge.  Such  a  source  of  experience 
no  sensuahst  ever  denied,  because  no  sensuahst  ever  denied  that 
sense  was  cognizant  of  itself.  It  makes  no  difference  that  JL-ocke 
distinguished  Reflection  from  Sense,  "  as  having  nothing  to  do 
with  external  objects,"  admitting,  however,  that  "  they  are  very 
like,"  and  that  Reflection  "  might  properly  enough  be  called  In- 
ternal Sense,"  while  Condillac  makes  *  it  only  a  modification  of 
sense.  It  is  a  matter  of  no  importance  that  we  do  not  call 
Self-consciousness  by  the  name  of  Sense,  if  we  allow  that  it  is 
only  conversant  about  the  contingent  Now,  no  interpretation 
of  Locke  can  ever  pretend  to  find  in  his  Reflection  a  revelation 
to  him  of  aught  native  or  necessary  to  the  mind,  beyond  the 
capability  to  act  and  suffer  in  certain  manners,  —  a  capability 
which  no  philosophy  ever  dreamt  of  denying.  And  if  this  be 
the  case,  it  follows,  that  the  formal  reduction,  by  Condillac,  of 
Reflection  to  Sensation,  is  only  a  consequent  following  out  of 
the  principles  of  the  doctrine  itself. 

The  philosophy  of  Gassendi.  —  Of  how  little  import  is  the 
distinction  of  Reflection  from  Sensation,  in  the  philosophy  of 
Locke,  is  equally  shown  in  the  philosophy  of  Gassendi ;  in  regard 
to  which  I  must  correct  a  fundamental  error  of  Mr.  Stewart.  I 
had  formerly  occasion  to  point  out  to  you  the  unaccountable 
mistake  of  this  very  learned  philosopher,  in  relation  to  Locke's 
use  of  the  term  Reflection,  which,  both  in  his  Essays  and  his 
Dissertation,  he  states  was  a  word  first  employed  by  Locke  in 
its  psychological  signification.  Nothing,  I  stated,  could  be  more 
incorrect.  When  adopted  by  Locke,  it  was  a  word  of  universal 
currency,  in  a  similar  sense,  in  every  contemporary  system  of 
philosophy,  and  had  been  so  employed  for  at  least  a  thousand 
years  previously.  This  being  understood,  Mr.  Stewart's  mistake 
in  regard  to  Gassendi  is  less  surprising.  "  The  word  Hejlectioriy* 
says  Mr.  Stewart,  ''.expresses  the  peculiar  and  characteristical 
doctrine,  by  which  Locke's  system  is  distinguished  from  that  of 
the  Gassendists  and  Hobbists.  All  this,  however,  serves  only  to 
prove  still  more  clearly,  how  widely  remote  his  real  opinion  on 


IV 


INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:   SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.        405 

this  subject  was  from  that  commonly  ascribed  to  him  by  the 
French  and  German  commentators.  For  my  own  part,  I  do 
not  think,  notwithstanding  some  casual  expressions  which  may 
seem  to  favor  the  contrary  supposition,  that  Locke  would  have 
hesitated  for  a  moment  to  admit,  with  Cudworth  and  Price,  that 
the  Understanding  is  itself  a  source  of  new  ideas.  That  it  is 
by  Reflection,  (which,  according  to  its  own  definition,  means 
merely  the  exercise  of  the  Understanding  on  the  internal  phe- 
nomena,) that  we  get  our  ideas  of  Memory,  Imagination, 
Reasoning,  and  of  all  other  intellectual  powers,  Mr.  Locke  has 
again  and  again  told  us ;  and  from  this  principle  it  is  so  obvious 
an  inference,  that  all  the  simple  ideas,  which  are  necessarily 
imphed  in  our  intellectual  operations,  are  ultimately  to  be 
referred  to  the  same  source,  that  we  cannot  reasonably  suppose 
a  philosopher  of  Locke's  sagacity  to  admit  the  former  propo- 
sition, and  to  withhold  his  assent  to  the  latter." 

The  inference  which,  in  the  latter  part  of  this  quotation,  IVIr. 
Stewart  speaks  of,  is  not  so  obvious  as  he  supposes,  seeing  that 
it  was  not  till  Leibnitz  that  the  character  of  necessity  was 
enounced,  and  clearly  enounced,  as  the  criterion  by  which  to 
discriminate  the  native  from  the  adventitious  cognitions  of  the 
mind.     This  is,  indeed,   shown  by  the  example  of  Gassendi 
himself,  who  is  justly  represented  by  Mr.  Stewart  as  a  Sen- 
sationalist of  the  purest  water ;  but  wholly  misrepresented  by 
him,  as  distinguished  from  Locke  by  his  negation  of  any  faculty 
corresponding  to  Locke's  Reflection.     So  far  is  this  from  being 
correct,  —  Gassendi  not  only  allowed  a  faculty  of  Self-conscious- 
ness analogous  to  the  Reflection  of  Locke,  he  actually  held  such 
a  faculty,  and  even  attributed  to  it  far  higher  functions  than  did 
the  English  philosopher ;  nay,  what  is  more,  held  it  under  the 
veiy  name  of  Reflection.     In  fact,  from  the  French  philosopher 
Locke  borrowed  this,  as  he  did  the  principal  part  of  his  whole 
philosophy ;  and  it  is  saying  but  little  either  for  the  patriotism 
or  intelligence  of  their  countrymen,  that  the  works  of  Gassendi 
and  Descartes  should  have  bejn  so  long  eclipsed  in  France  by 
those  of  Locke,  who  was  in  truth  only  a  follower  of  the  one, 
^d  a  mistaken  refuter  of  the  other.     In  respect  to  Gassendi, 


li 


\ 


406       INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF^ONSCIOUSNESS. 

there  are  reasons  that  explain  this  neglect  apart  from  any  want 
of  merit  in  himself;  for  he  is  a  thinker  fully  equal  to  Locke  in 
independence  and  vigor  of  intellect,  and,  with  the  exception  of 
Leibnitz,  he  is,  of  all  the  great  philosophers  of  modern  times, 
the  most  varied  and  profound  in  learnmg. 

GassendVs  division  of  the  phcenomena  of  mind.  —  Now,  in 
regard  to  the  point  at  issue,  so  far  is  Gassendi  from  assimilating 
Reflection  to  Sense,  as  Locke  virtually,  if  not  expressly,  does, 
and  for  which  assimilation  he  has  been  principally  lauded  by 
those  of  his  followers  who  analyzed  every  mental  process  into 
Sensation,  —  so  far,  I  say,  is  Gassendi  from  doing  this,  that  he 
places  Sense  and  Reflection  at  the  opposite  mental  poles,  making 
the  former  a  mental  function  wholly  dependent  upon  the  bodily 
organism  ;  the  latter,  an  energy  of  intellect  wholly  inorganic  and 
abstract  from  matter.  The  cognitive  phsenomena  of  mind  Gas- 
sendi reduces  to  three  general  classes  of  faculties:  —  1°.  Sense, 
2°.  Phantasy  (or  Lnagination),  and  3°.  Intellect.  The  two 
former  are,  however,  virtually  one,  inasmuch  as  Phantasy,  on 
his  doctrine,  is  only  cognizant  about  the  forms  which  it  receives 
from  Sense,  and  is,  equally  with  Sense,  dependent  on  a  corporeal 
organ.  Litellect,  on  the  contrary,  he  holds,  is  not  so  dependent, 
and  that  its  functions  are,  therefore,  of  a  kind  superior  to  those 
of  an  organic  faculty.  These  functions  or  faculties  of  Litellect 
he  reduces  to  three.  "The  first,"  he  says,  "is  Intellectual 
Apprehension,  —  that  is,  the  apprehension  of  things  which  are 
beyond  the  reach  of  Sense,  and  which,  consequently,  leaving  no 
trace  in  the  brain,  are  also  beyond  the  ken  of  Imagination. 
Such,  especially,  is  spiritual  or  incorporeal  nature,  as,  for 
example,  the  Deity.  For  although  in  speaking  of  God,  we  say 
that  He  is  incorporeal,  yet  in  attempting  to  realize  Him  to 
Phantasy,  we  only  imagine  something  with  the  attributes  of 
body.  It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  this  is  all ;  for, 
besides  and  above  tlie  corporeal  form  which  we  thus  imagine, 
there  is,  at  the  same  time,  another  conception,  which  that  form 
contributes,  as  it  were,  to  veil  and  obscure.  This' conception  is 
not  confined  to  the  narrow  limits  of  Phantasy ;  it  is  proper  to 
Intellect;  and,  therefore,  such  an  apprehension  ought  not  to  ^' 


1. 


INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.        407 

called  an  imagination,  but  an  intelligence  or  intellecfion."     In  hia 
doctrine  of  Intellect,  Gassendi  takes,  indeed,  far  higher  ground 
than  Locke ;  and  it  is  a  total  reversal  of  his  doctrine,  when  it  is 
stated,  that  he  allowed  to  the  mind  no  different,  no  higher,  appre- 
hensions than  the  derivative  images  of  Sense.    He  says,  indeed, 
and  he  says  truly,  that  if  we  attempt  to  figure  out  the  Deity  'm 
.mag,nat,o„,  we  cannot  depict  Him  in  that  faculty,  except  under 
sensible  forms -as,  for  example,  under  the  form  of  a  venerable 
old  man.     But  does  he  not  condemn  this  attempt  as  derogatory  ? 
and  does  he  not  allow  us  an  intellectual  conception  of  the 
Divinity,  superior  to  the  grovelling  conditions  of  Phantasy? 
I  he  Cartesians,  however,  were  too  well  disposed  to  overiook 
the  hmits  under  which  Gassendi  had  advanced  his  doctrine  — 
that  the  senses  are  the  source  of  all  our  knowledge ;  and  Mr. 
Stewart  has  adopted,  from  the  Port  Royal  Logic,  a  statement 
of  Gassendi  s  opinion,  which  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  partial  and 
incomplete. 

The  second  function  which  Ga^ssendi  assigns  to  Intellect  is 
Reflection,  and  the  third  is  Reasoning.     It  is  with  the  former  of 
these  that  we  are  at  present  concerned.     Mr.  Stewart,  you  have 
seen,  distinguishes  the  philosophy  of  Locke  from  that  of  his 
predecessor  in  this, -that  tlie  former  introduced  Reflection  or 
be  f-consciousness  as  a  source  of  knowledge,  which  was  over- 
looked or  disallowed  by  the  latter.     Mr.  Stewart  is  thus  wrong 
m  the  fact  of  Gassendi's  rejection  of  any  source  of  knowledge 
of  the  name  and  nature  of  Locke's  Reflection.     So  far  is  (his 
from  being  the  case,  that  Gassendi  attributes  far  more  to  this 
faculty  than  Locke ;  for  he  not  only  makes  it  an  original  source 
of  knowledge,  but  founds  upon  the  nature  of  its  action  a  proof 
of  the  immateriality  of  mind.     «  To  the  second  operation,"  he 
says,  "belongs  the  Attention  or  Reflection  of  the  intellect  upon 
Its  proper  acts,  — an  operation  by  wliich  it  understands  that  it 
understands,  and  thinks  that  it  thinks  (qua  se  intelligere  intelligit, 
cogitatye  se  cogitare).     «  We  have  formerly,"  he  adds,  «  shown 
that  It  IS  above  the  power  of  Phantasy  to  imagine  that  it  imag- 
.^mes  because,  being  of  a  corporeal  nature,  it  cannot  act  upon 
^elf ;  in  fact,  it  is  as  absurd  to  say  that  I  imagine  myself  to 


408        INTERNAL  PERCEPTION:  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

imagine,  as  that  I  see  myself  to  see."  He  then  goes  on  to  show, 
that  the  knowledge  we  obtain  of  all  our  mental  operations  and 
affections  is  by  this  reflection  of  Intellect ;  that  it  is  necessarily 
of  an  inorganic  or  purely  spiritual  character ;  that  it  is  peculiar 
to  man,  and  distinguishes  him  from  the  brutes  ;  and  that  it  aids 
us  in  the  recognition  of  disembodied  substances,  in  the  confession 
of  a  God,  and  in  according  to  Him  the  veneration  which  we 

owe  Him. 

From  what  I  have  now  said,  you  will  see,  that  the  mere 
admission  of  a  faculty  of  Self-consciousness,  as  a  source  of 
knowledge,  is  of  no  import  in  determining  the  rational,  the 
anti-sensual,  character  of  a  philosophy ;  and  that  even  those 
philosophers  who  discriminated  it  the  most  strongly  from  Sense 
might  still  maintain  that  experience  is  not  only  the  occasion,  but 
the  source,  of  all  our  knowledge.  Such  pliilosophers  were  Gas- 
sendi  and  Locke. 


A 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE    CONSERVATIVE   FACULTY. -MEMORY   PROPER. 

Thuough  the  powers  of  External  and  Internal  Perception 
we  are  enabled  to  acquire  information,  _  experience :  but  this 
acquis,  .on  .s  not  of  itself  independent  and  complete ;  it  sup- 
poses  tbat  we  are  also  able  to  retain  knowledge  acquired,  for 
we  cannot  be  said  to  get  what  we  are  unable  to  keep.     The 
laeulty  of  Acquisition  is,  therefore,  only  reaUzed  through  an- 
other foculty,  _  the  faculty  of  Retention  or  Conservation.    Here 
we  have  another  example  of  what  I  have  already  frequently 
had  occasion  to  suggest  to  your  observation ;- we  have  two 
taeulties,  two  elementary  phajnomena,  evidently  distinct,  and 
yet  each  depending  on  the  other  for  its  realization.     Without  a 
power  of  Acquisition,  a  power  of  Conservation  could  not  be  ex- 
erted ;  and  without  the  latter,  the  former  would  be  frustrated,  for 
we  should  lose  as  fast  as  we  acquired.    But  as  the  faculty  of  Ac- 
quisition would  be  useless  without  the  faculty  of  Retention,  so  the 
^culty  of  Retention  would  be  useless  without  the  faculties  rf 
Reproduction  and  Representation.     That  the  mind  retained 
beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  a  treasury  of  knowled.'e' 
would  be  of  no  avail,  did  it  not  possess  the  power  of  bringing 
out,  and  of  displaying,-  in  other  ^vords,  of  reproducing,  and  rep- 
resenting this  knowledge  in  consciousness.     But  because  the 
tacu  ty  of  Conservation  would  be  fruitless  without  the  ulterior 
faculties  of  Reproduction  and   Representation,  we  are  not  to 
confound  these  faculties,  or  to  view  the  act  of  mind,  which  is 
Uieir  jomt  result,  as  a  simple  and  elementary  pha^nomenon. 
Ihough  mutually  dependent  on  each  other,   the  faculties   of 
Conservation,  Reproduction,  and  Representation  are  governed 

"  (409) 


\-i 


410 


THE  CONSERVATIVE   FACULTY. 


by  different  laws,  and,  in  different  individuals,  are  found  greatly 
varying  in  their  comparative  vigor. 

Use  of  the  terms  Memory  and  Recollection.  —  The  intimate 
connection  of  these  three  faculties,  or  elementary  activities,  is 
the  cause,  however,  why  they  liave  not  been  distinguished  in  the 
analysis  of  philosophers ;  and  why  their  distmction  is  not  pre- 
cisely marked  in  ordinary  language.     In  ordinary  language,  we 
have,  indeed,  words  which,  without  excluding  the  other  faculties, 
denote  one  of  these  more  emphatically.     Tlius,  in  the  term  Mem- 
ory, thf^  Conservative  Faculty,  the  phoenomenon  of  Retention, 
is  the  central  notion,  with  which,  however,  those  of  Reproduc- 
tion and  Representation  are  associated.     In  the  term  Recollec- 
tion, again,  the  phapnomenon  of  Reproduction  is  the  principal 
notion,  accompanied,  however,  by  those  of  Retention  and  Rep- 
resentation as  its  subordinates.    -This  being  the  case,  it  is  evi- 
dent what  must  be  our  course  in  regard  to  the  employment  of 
common  language.     We  must  either  abandon  it  altogether,  or 
take  the  term  that  more  proximately  expresses  our  analysis,  and, 
by  definition,  limit  and  specify  its  signification.     Thus,  in  the 
Conservative  Faculty,  we  may  either  content  ourselves  with  the 
scientific  terms  of  Conservation  and  Retention  alone,  or  we  may 
moreover  use  as  a  synonym  the  vulgar  term  Memory,  determin- 
ing its  application,  in  our  mouths,  by  a  preliminary  definition. 
And  that  the  word  Memory  principally  and  properly  denotes  the 
power  the  mind  possesses  of  retaininfr  hold  of  the  knowledfre  it 
has  acquired,  is  generally  admitted  by  philologists,  and  is  not  de- 
nied by  philosophers.     Of  the  latter,  some  have  expressly  avowed 
this.     Of  these,  I  shall  quote  to  you  only  two  or  three,  which 
happen  to  occur  the  first  to  my  recollection.     Plato  considers 
Memory  simply  as  the  faculty  of  Conservation.     Aristotle  dis- 
tinguishes Memory  {nvii^ri),  as  the  faculty  of  Conservation,  from 
Reminiscence   {(m'niv^Gig),  the  faculty  of    Reproduction.      St. 
Augustin,  who  is  not  only  the  most  illustrious  of  the  Christian 
fathers,  but  one  of  the  profolindest  thinkers  of  antiquity,  finely 
contrasts  Memory  with  Recollection  or  Reminiscence,  in  one  of 
the  most  eloquent  and  philosophical  chapters   of   his    Confes- 
sions.    Joseph  Scaliger,  also,  speaking  of  himself,  is  made  to 


/ 1 


i 
If 


i 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


411 


say :  « I  have  not  a  good  memory,  but  a  good  reminiscence  • 
proper  names  do  not  easily  recur  to  me,  but  when  I  think  on' 
them,  I  find  them  out."    It  is  sufficient  for  our  purpose  that  the 
distmction  is  here  taken  between  the  Retentive  Power,  —  Mem- 
ory, and  the  Reprochictive  Power,  —  Reminiscence.     Seali<rer's 
memory  could  hardly  be  called  bad,  though  his  reminiscence 
might  be  better ;  and  these  elements  in  conjunction  go  to  con- 
stitute a  good  memory,  in  the  comprehensive  sense  of  the  ex- 
pression.    I  say  the  retentive  faculty  of  that  man  is  surely  not 
to  be  despised,  who  was  able  to  commit  to  memory  Homer  in 
twenty-one  days,  and  the  whole  Greek  poets  in  three  months 
and  who,  taking  him  all  in  all,  was  the  most  learned  man  the 
world  has  ever  seen.     I  might  adduce  many  other  authorities  to 
the  same  effect ;  but  this,  I  think,  is  sufficient  to  warrant  me  in 
using  the  term  Memory  exclusively  to  denote  the  faculty  pos- 
sessed by  the  mind  of  preserving  what  has  once  been  present 
to  consciousness,  so  that  it  may  again  be  recalled  and  represented 
in  consciousness.     So  much  for  the  verbal  consideration. 
_     What  is  Me>mry .«  _  By  Memory  or  Retention,  you  will  see, 
IS  only  meant  the  condition  of  Reproduction  ;  and  it  is,  there- 
fore, evident  that  it  is  only  by  an  extension  of  the  term  that  it 
can  be  called  a  faculty,  that  is,  an  active  power.     It  is  more  a 
passive  resistance  than  an  energy,  and  ought,  therefore,  perhaps 
to  receive  rather  the  appellation  of  a  capacity.     But  the  nature 
of  this  capacity  or  fliculty  we  must  now  proceed  to  consider. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  I  presume  that  the  fact  of  retention 
IS  admitted.     We  are  conscious  of  certain  cognitions  as  acquired, 
and  we  are  conscious  of  these  cognitions  as  resuscitated.     That 
m  the  interval,  when  out  of  consciousness,  these  cognitions  do 
continue  to  subsist  in  the  mind,  is  certainly  an  hypothesis,  be- 
cause whatever  is  out  of  consciousness  can  only  be  assumed  ;  but 
It  IS  an  hypothesis  which  we  are  not  only  warranted,  but  neces- 
sitated, by  the  phajnomena,  to  establish.     I  recollect,  indeed, 
that  one  philosopher  has  proposed  another  hypothesis.     Avicen- 
na,  the  celebrated  Arabian  philosopher  and  physician,  denies  to 
the  human  mind  the  conservation   of  its  acquired  knowledge ; 
and  he  explains  the  process  of  recollection  by  an  irradiation  of 


412 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


divine  light,  through  which  the  recovered  cognition  is  infused 
into  the  intellect.  Assuming,  however,  that  the  knowledge  we 
have  acquired  is  retained  in  and  by  the  human  mind,  we  must, 
of  course,  attribute  to  the  mind  a  power  of  thus  retaining  it. 
The  fact  of  memory  is  thus  established. 

Retention  admits  of  explanation.  —  But  if  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  the  knowledge  we  have  acquired  by  Perception  and  Self- 
consciousness  does  actually  continue,  though  out  of  conscious- 
ness, to  endure ;  can  we,  in  the  second  place,  find  any  ground 
on  which  to  explain  the  possibility  of  this  endurance  ?  I  think 
we  can,  and  shall  adduce  such  an  explanation,  founded  on  the 
jieneral  analogies  of  our  mental  nature.  Before,  however,  com- 
mencing  this,  I  may  notice  some  of  the  similitudes  which  have 
been  suggested  by  philosophers,  as  illustrative  of  this  faculty.  It 
has  been  compared  to  a  storehouse,  —  Cicero  calls  it  "  thesaurus 
(mnium  renun,"  —  provided  with  cells  or  pigeon-holes,  in  which 
its  furniture  is  laid  up  and  arranged.  It  has  been  likened  to  a 
tablet,  on  which  characters  were  written  or  impressed.  But  of  all 
these  sensible  resemblances,  none  is  so  ingenious  as  that  of  Gas- 
sendi,  to  the  folds  in  a  piece  of  paper  or  cloth ;  though  I  do  not 
recollect  to  have  seen  it  ever  noticed.  A  sheet  of  paper,  or 
cloth,  is  capable  of  receiving  innumerable  folds,  and  the  folds  in 
which  it  has  been  oftenest  laid,  it  takes  afterwards  of  itself. 

All  these  resemblances,  if  intended  as  more  than  metaphors, 
are  unphilosophical.  We  do  not  even  obtain  any  insight  into 
the  nature  of  Memory  from  any  of  the  physiological  hypotheses 
which  have  been  stated ;  indeed,  all  of  them  are  too  contempti- 
ble even  for  serious  criticism.  "The  mind,"  [says  Schinid,] 
"  affords  us,  however,  in  itself,  the  very  explanation  which  wc 
vainly  seek  in  any  collateral  influences.  The  pluenomenou  of 
retention  is,  indeed,  so  natural,  on  the  ground  of  the  self-energy 
of  mind,  that  we  have  no  need  to  suppose  any  special  faculty 
for  memory ;  the  conservation  of  the  action  of  the  mind  being 
involved  in  the  very  conception  of  its  power  of  self-activity. 

The  real  difficulty  of  the  problem.  —  "Let  us  consider  how 
knowledge  is  acquired  by  the  mind.  Knowledge  is  not  acquired 
by  a  mere  passive  affection,  but  through  the  exertion  of  sponta- 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY.  413 

neous  activity  on  the  part  of  the  knowing  subject;  for  though 

8t,  1  th,s  excuafon  ,s  only  the  occasion  on  which  the  mind  de 
velops  ats  self-energy.  But  this  energy  being  once  determined 
1  ,s  natural  that  it  should  persist,  until  again  annihilated  by 
other  causes.  This  would,  in  fact,  be  the  case,  were  the  mind 
merely  pass.ve  in  the  impression  it  receives ;  for  it  is  a  un""' 
sal  law  of  nature,  that  every  effect  endures  as  long  as  it  is  not 
modmed  or  opposed  by  any  other  effect.  But  the  mental  aX 
ty.  the  act  of  knowledge,  of  which  I  now  speak,  is  more  than 

Si  V-   ,  T  ''"  '"''^^  "'■  ""^  ''•'■■^"'"'^  P°^^«^  "f  ^  ^"bject  one  and 
fl,  1  ;  rr''"'-""*'^'  ^  P-'  of  «•-  Ego  mustie  detached 

Senc"    :       '^t     '  ^"'"''"  "''''  *'"'^"^"' '"'  ''=«-  extinguished. 
Hence  U  ,s,  that  the  problem  most  difficult  0/ solutio:  is  not, 
how  a  mental  activity  endures,  but  how  it  ever  vanishes.     For  as 
we  must  here  maintain,  not  merely  the  possible  continuance  of 
certam  energ.es,  but  the  impossibility  of  the  non-continuance  of 
any  one,  we,  consequently,  stand  in  apparent  contradiction  to 
what  experience  shows  us ;  showing  us,  as  it  does,  our  internal 
activities  in  a  ceaseless  vicissitude  of  manifestation  and  disap- 
pearance.     This    apparent  contradiction,   therefore,   demands 
solution.     If  ,t  be  impossible  that  .an  energy  of  mind  which  has 
once  been  should  be  abolished,  without  a  laceration  of  the  vital 
umty  of  the  mind  as  a  subject  one  and  indivisible  ;_  on  this 
supposition,  the  question  arises,  How  can  the  facts  of  our  self- 
consciousness  be  brought  to  harmonize  with  this  statement,  see- 
mg  that  consciousness  proves  to  us,  that  cognitions  once  clear 
and  vnid  are  forgotten  ;  that  feelings,  wishes,  desires,  in  a  word 
every  act  or  modification,  of  which  we  are  at  one  time  aware 
are  at  another  vanished;  and  that  our  internal  existence  seems' 
daily  to  assume  a  new  and  different  aspect. 

The  distribution  of  the  mental  force  explains  foryetfulness. - 
The  solution  of  tins  problem  is  to  be  sought  for  in  the  theory 
of  obscure  or  latent  modifications,  [that  is,  mental  activities,  rea( 
but  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  which  I  formerly  ex^ 
plained.]  The  disappearance  of  internal  energies  from  the 
view  of  internal  perception  does  not  warrant  the  conclusion 

35*  ' 


414 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


that  they  no  longer  exist ;  for  we  are  not  always  conscious  of 
ail  the  mental  energies  whose  existence  cannot  be  disallowed. 
Only  the  more  vivid  changes  sufficiently  affect  our  consciousness 
to  become  objects  of  its  apprehension :  we,  consequently,  are 
only  conscious  of  the  more  prominent  series  of  changes  in  our 
internal  state  ;  the  others  remain  for  the  most  part  latent.  Thus 
we  take  note  of  our  memory  only  in  its  influence  on  our  con- 
sciousness ;  and,  in  general,  do  not  consider  that  the  immense 
proportion  of  our  intellectual  possessions  consists  of  our  delites- 
cent cognitions.  All  the  cognitions  which  we  possess,  or  have 
possessed,  still  remain  to  us,  —  the  whole  complement  of  all  our 
knowledge  still  lies  in  our  memory ;  but  as  new  acquisitions  are 
continually  pressing  in  upon  the  old,  and  continually  ttddng 
place  along  with  them  among  the  modifications  of  the  Ego,  the 
old  cognitions,  unless  from  time  to  time  refreshed  and  brought 
forward,  are  driven  back,  and  become  gradually  fainter  and 
more  obscure.  This  obscuration  is  not,  however,  to  be  conceived 
as  an  obliteration,  or  as  a  total  annihilation.  The  obscuration, 
the  dehtescencc  of  mental  activities,  is  explained  by  the  weak- 
ening of  the  degree  in  which  they  affect  our  self-consciousness 
or  internal  sense.  An  activity  becomes  obscure,  because  it  is 
no  longer  able  adequately  to  affect  this.  To  explain,  therefore, 
the  disappearance  of  our  mental  activities,  it  is  only  requisite  to 
explain  their  weakening  or  enfeeblement,  —  which  may  be  at- 
tempted in  the  following  way :  —  Every  mental  activity  belongs 
to  the  one  vital  activity  of  mind  in  general ;  it  is,  therefore, 
indivisibly  bound  up  with  it,  and  can  neither  be  torn  from,  nor 
abolished  in,  it.  But  the  mind  is  only  capable,  at  any  one  mo- 
ment, of  exerting  a  certain  quantity  or  degree  of  force.  This 
quantity  must,  therefore,  be  divided  among  the  different  activi- 
ties, so  that  each  has  only  a  part ;  «nd  the  sum  of  force  belong- 
ino-  to  all  the  several  activities  taken  together,  is  equal  to  the 
quantity  or  degree  of  force  belonging  to  the  vital  activity  of 
mind  in  general.  Thus,  in  proportion  to  the  greater  number  of 
activities  in  the  mind,  the  less  will  be  the  proportion  of  force 
which  will  accrue  to  each  ;  the  feebler,  therefore,  each  will  be, 
and  the  fainter  the  vivacity  with  which  it  can  affect  self-con- 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY.  415 

sciousness.     This  weakening  of  vivacity  can,  in  consequence  of 
the  mdefinite  increase  in  the  number  of  our  mental  activities 
caused  by  the  ceaseless  excitation  of  the  mind  to  new  knowl' 
edge,  be  carried  to  an  indefinite  tenuity,  without  the  activities 
therefore,  ceasing  altogether  to  be.    Thus  it  is  quite  natural,  that 
the  great  proportion  of  our  mental  cognitions  should  have  waxed 
too  feeble  to  affect  our  internal  perception  with  the  competent 
mtensity ;  it  is  quite  natural  that  they  should  have  become  ob- 
scure or  delitescent.    In  these  circumstances,  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  every  new  cognition,  every  newly-excited  activity,  should 
be  m  the  greatest  vivacity,' and  should  draw  to  itself  the  great- 
est  amount  of  force:  this  force  will,  in  the  same  proportion,  be 
withdrawn  from  tlie  other  earlier  cognitions ;  and  it  is  they,  con- 
sequently, which  must  undergo  the  fate  of  obscuration.     Thus 
18  explamed  the  phicnomenon  of  Forgetfulness   or   Oblivion 
And  here,  by  the  way,  it  should  perhaps  be  noticed,  that  forcret- 
fulness  is  not  to  be  limited  merely  tx,  our  cognitions:  it  applies 
equally  to  the  feelings  and  desires. 

"  The  same  principle  illustrates,  and  is  illustrated  by,  the 
pha^nomenon  of  Distraction  and  Attention,     If  a  great  number 
of  activities  are  equally  excited  at  once,  the  disposable  amount 
of  mental  force  is  equally  distributed  among  this  multitude,  so 
that  each  activity  only  attains  a  low  degree  of  vivacity;  the 
state  of  mind  which  results  from  this  is  Distraction.     Attention 
is  the  state  the  converse  of  this ;  that  is,  the  state  in  which  the 
vital  activity  of  mind  is,  voluntarily  or  involuntarily,  concen- 
trated, say,  in  a  single  activity ;  in  consequence  of  which  con- 
centration, this  activity  waxes  stronger,  and,  therefore,  clearer. 
On  this  theory,  the  proposition  with  which  I  started,  —  that  all 
mental  activities,  all  acts  of  knowledge,  which  have  been  once 
excited,  persist,  —  becomes  intelligible ;  we  never  wholly  lo«e 
them,  but  they  become  obscure.     This  obscuration  can  be  con- 
ceived m  every  infinite  degree,  between  incipient  latescence  and 
.  irrecoverable  latency.     The  obscure  cognition  may  exist  simply 
out  of  consciousness,  so  that  it  can  be  recalled  by  a  common  act 
of  reminiscence.     Again,  it  may  be  impossible  to  recover  it  by 
an  act  of  voluntary  recollection ;  but  some  association  may  re- 


1 


416 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


I 


vivify  it,  enough  to  make  it  fla-^h  after  a  long  oblivion  into  con- 
sciousness. Furtlier,  it  may  be  obscured  so  far  that  it  can  only 
be  resuscitated  by  some  morbid  affection  of  the  system ;  or, 
finally,  it  may  be  absolutely  lost  for  us  in  this  life,  and  destined 
only  for  our  reminiscence  in  the  life  to  come. 

Conservation  of  all  the  mental  phcenomena.  — "  That  this 
doctrine  admits  of  an  immediate  application  to  the  faculty  of 
Retention,  or  Memory  Proper,  has  been  already  signified.  And 
in  further  explanation  of  this  faculty,  I  would  annex  two  obser- 
vations, which  arise  out  of  the  preceding  theory.  The  first  is, 
that  retention,  that  memory,  does  not  belong  alone  to  the  cogni- 
tive faculties,  but  that  the  same  law  extends,  in  hke  manner, 
over  all  the  three  primary  classes  of  the  mental  phenomena. 
It  is  not  ideas,  notions,  cognitions  only,  but  feelings  and  cona- 
tions, which  are  held  fast,  and  which  can,  therefore,  be  again 
awakened.  This  fact,  of  the  conservation  of  our  practical  mod- 
ifications, is  not  indeed  denied ;  but  psychologists  usually  so 
represent  the  matter,  as  if,  when  feelings  or  conations  are  re- 
tained in  the  mind,  that  this  takes  place  only  through  the  medium 
of  the  memory ;  meaning  by  this,  that  we  must,  first  of  all,  have 
had  notions  of  these  affections,  which  notions  being  preserved, 
they,  when  recalled  to  mind,  do  again  awaken  the  modification 
they  represent.  From  the  theory  I  have  detailed  to  you,  it  must 
be  seen,  that  there  is  no  need  of  this  intermediation  of  notions, 
but  that  we  immediately  retain  feelings,  volitions,  and  desires, 
no  less  than  notions  and  cognitions ;  inasmuch  as  all  the  three, 
classes  of  fundamental  phienomena  arise  equally  out  of  the  vital 
manifestations  of  the  same  one  and  indivisible  subject. 

Memory  dependent  on  corporeal  conditions.  —  "The  second 
result  of  this  theory  is,  that  the  various  attempts  to  explain 
memory  by  physiological  hypotheses  are  as  unnecessary  as  they 
are  untenable.  This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  general 
problem  touching  the  relation  of  mind  and  body.  But  in  prox- 
imate reference  to  memory,  it  may  be  satisfactory  to  show,  that 
this  faculty  does  not  stand  in  need  of  such  crude  modes  of 
explanation.  It  must  be  allowed,  that  no  faculty  affords  a  more 
tempting  subject  for  materialistic  conjecture.     No  other  mental 


^ 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY.  417 

power  betrays  a  greater  dependence   on  corporeal  conditions 
than  memory.     Not  only,  in  general,  does  its  vigorous  or  feeble 
activity  essentially  depend  on  the  health  and  indisposition  of  the 
body    more  especially  of  the  nervous  systems;    but  there  is 
manitested  a  connection  between  certain  functions  of  memory 
and  certain  parts  of  the  cerebral  apparatus."     This  connection 
however,  is  such  as  affords  no  countenance  to  any  particular- 
hypotheses  at  present  in  vogue.     For  example,  after  certain 
diseases,  or  certain  affections  of  the  brain,  some  partial  loss  of 
memory  takes  place.     Perhaps  the  patient  loses  the  whole  of 
his  stock  of  knowledge  previous  to  the  disease,  the  faculty  of 
acquiring   and    retaining   new   information   remaining    entire. 
1  erhaps  he  loses  the  memory  of  words,  and  preserves  that  of 
things      Perhaps  he  may  retain  thememory  of  nouns,  and  lose 
that  ot  verbs,  owice  versa;  nay,  what  is  still  more  marvellous, 
though  It  IS  not  a  very  unfrequent  occurrence,  one  language 
may  be  taken  neatly  out  of  liis  retention,  without  affecting  his 
memory  of  others.     "  By  such  observations,  the  older  psycholo- 
gists were  led  to  the  various  physiological  hypotheses  by  which 
they  hoped  to  account  for  the  pha^nomena  of  retention, -as 
for  example,  the  hypothesis  of  permanent  material  impressions 
on  tlie  bram,—  or  of  permanent  dispositions  in  the  nervous  fibres 
to  repeat  the  same  oscillatory  movements,  -  of  particular  organs 
for  the  different  functions  of  memory,- oi  particular  parts  of 
the  brain  as  the  repositories  of  the  various  classes  of  ideas, -or 
even  of  a  particular  fibre,  as  the  instrument  of  every  several 
notion.     But  all  these  hypotheses  betray  only  an  ignorance  of 
the  proper  object  of  philosophy,  and  of  the  true  nature  of  the 
thmkmg  principle.     They  are  at  best  but  useless ;  for  if  the 
unity  and  self-activity  of  mind  be  not  denied,  it  is  manifest,  that 
the  mental  activities,  which  have  been  once  determined,  must 
persist,  and  these  corporeal  explanations  are  supei-fluous.     Nor 
can  It  be  argued,  that  the  limitations  to  which  the  Retentive,  or 
rather  the  Reproductive,  Faculty  is  subjected  in  its  energies,  in 
consequence  of  its  bodily  relations,  prove  the  absolute  depend- 
ence of  memory  on  organization,  and  legitimate  the  explanation 
01  this  faculty  by  corporeal  agencies ;  for  the  incompetency  of 


( 


I 


418 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


419 


this  inference  can  be  shown  from  the  contradiction  in  which  it 
stands  to  the  general  laws  of  mind,  which,  howbeit  conditioned 
by  bodily  relations,  still  ever  preserves  its  self-activity  and  inde- 
pendence." 

Tioo  qualities  requisite  to  a  good  memory,  —  There  is  perhaps 
no  mentiil  power  in  which  such  extreme  differences  appear,  in 
different  individuals,  as  in  memory.  To  a  good  memory  there 
are  certainly  two  qualities  requisite,  —  1°,  The  capacity  of  Re- 
tention, and  2°,  The  faculty  of  Reproduction.  But  the  former 
quality  appears  to  be  that  by  which  these  marvellous  contrasts 
are  principally  determined.  I  should  only  fatigue  you,  were  I 
to  enumerate  the  prodigious  feats  of  retention,  which  are  proved 
to  have  been  actually  performed.  Of  these,  I  shall  only  select 
the  one  w^hich,  upon  the  wiiole,  appears  to  me  the  most  extra- 
ordinary. 

The  sum  of  the  statement  is,  that  at  Padua  there   dwelt, 
[near  Murctus,]  a  young  man,  a  Corsican  by  birth,  and  of  a 
good  ftimily  in  that  island,  vwho  had  come  thither  for  the  culti- 
vation of  Civil  law,  in  which  he  was  a  diligent  and  distinguished 
student.     He  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  house  and  gardens 
of  Muretus,  who,  having  heard  that  he  possessed  a  remarkable 
art,  or  faculty  of  memory,  took  occasion,  though  incredulous  in 
regard  to  reports,  of  requesting  from  him  a  specimen  of  his 
power.      He   at  once  agreed ;   and  having  adjourned  with  a 
considerable  party  of  distinguished  auditors  into  a  saloon,  Mu- 
retus began  to  dictate  words,  Latin,  Greek,  barbarous,  significant 
and  non-significant,  disjointed  and  connected,  until  he  wearied 
himself,  the  young  man  who  wrote  them  down,  and  the  audience 
who  were  present ;  —  "  we  were  all,"  he  says,  "  marvellously 
tired."     The  Corsican  alone  was  the  one  of  the  whole  company 
alert  and  fresh,  and  continually  desired  JNIuretus  for  more  words ; 
who  declared  he  would  be   more   than    satisfied,  if  he  could 
repeat  the  half  of  what  had  been  taken  down,  and  at  length  he 
ceased.     The  young  man,  with  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the  ground, 
stood  silent  for  a  brief  season,  and  then,  says  Muretus,  "  vidi 
fiicinus  mirificissimum."     Having  begun  to  speak,  he  absolutely 
repeated  the  whole  words,  in  the  same  order  in  which  they  had 


been   delivered,  without  the  slightest   hesitation;    then,  com- 
mencing from  the  last,  he  repeated  them  backwards  till  he  came 
to  the  first.     Then  again,  so  that  he  spoke  the  first,  the  third, 
the  fifth,  and  so  on ;  did  this  in  any  order  that  was  asked,  and 
aU  without  the  smallest  error.     Having  subsequently  become 
familiarly  acquainted  with  him,  I  have  had  other  and  frequent 
experience  of  his  power.     He  assured  me  (and  he  had  nothing 
of  the  boaster  in  him)  that  he  could  recite,  in  the  manner  I 
have  mentioned,  to  the  amount  of  thirty-six  thousand  words. 
And  what  is  more  wonderful,  they  all  so  adhered  to  the  mind 
that,  after  a  year's  interval,  he  could  repeat  them  without  trouble. 
I  know,  from  having  tried  him,  he  could  do  so  after  a  consider- 
able time. 

Before  passing  from  the  faculty  of  Memory,  considered  simply 
as  the  power  of  conservation,  I  may  notice  tw^o  opposite  doc- 
trines, that  have  been  maintained,  in  regard  to  the  relation  of 
this  faculty  to  the  higher  powers  of  mind.  One  of  these  doc- 
trines holds,  that  a  great  development  of  memory  is  incompatible 
with  a  high  degree  of  intelligence  ;  the  other,  that  a  high  degree 
of  intelligence  supposes  such  a  development  of  memory  as  its 
condition. 

Great  memory  and  sound  judgment  not  incompatible,  —  The 
former  of  these  opinions  is  one  very  extensively  prevalent,  not 
only  among  philosophers,  but  among  mankind  in  general ;  and 
the  words  —  beati  memoria,  expectantes  judicium — have  been 
applied  to  express  the  supposed  incompatibility  of  great  memory 
and  sound  judgment.     There  seems,  however,  no  vahd  ground 
for  this  belief.     If  an  extraordinary  power  of  retention  is  fre- 
quently not  accom])anied  with  a  corresponding  power  of  intelli- 
gence, it  is  a  natural,  but  not  a  very  logical  procedure,  to  jump 
to  the  conclusion,  that  a  great  memory  is  inconsistent  with  a 
sound   judgment.      The   opinion   is   refuted    by   the   slightest 
induction ;  for  we  immediately  find,  that  many  of  the  individ- 
uals who  towered  above  their  fellows  in  intellectual  superiority, 
were  almost  equally  distinguished   for  the  capacity  of   their 
memory.     I  recently  quoted  to  you  a  passage,  in  which  Joseph 
Scaliger  is  made  to  say  that  he  had  not  a  good  memory,  but  a 


420 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY. 


good  reminiscence  ;  and  he  immediately  adds,  "  never,  or  rarely, 
are  judgment  and  a  great  memory  found  in  conjunction."  Of 
this  opinion  Scaliger  himself  affords  the  most  illustrious  refu- 
tation. During  his  lifetime,  he  was  hailed  as  the  Dictator  of 
the  Republic  of  Letters,  and  posterity  has  ratified  the  decision 
of  his  contemporaries,  in  crowning  him  as  the  prince  of  philol- 
ogers  and  critics.  But  to  elevate  a  man  to  such  an  eminence, 
it  is  evident,  that  the  most  consummate  genius  and  ability  were 
conditions. 

For  intellectual  power  of  the  highest  order,  none  were  dis- 
tinguished above  Grotius  and  Pascal ;  and  Grotius  and  Pascal 
forgot  nothing  they  had  ever  read  or  thought.  Leibnitz  and 
Euler  were  not  less  celebrated  for  their  intelligence  than  for 
their  memory,  and  both  could  repeat  the  whole  of  the  uEneid, 
Donellus  knew  the  Corpus  Juris  by  heart,  and  yet  he  was  one 
of  the  profoundest  and  most  original  speculators  in  jurisprudence. 
Muratori,  though  not  a  genius  of  the  very  highest  order,  was 
Btill  a  man  of  great  ability  and  judgment ;  and  so  powerful  was 
his  retention,  that  in  making  quotations,  he  had  only  to  read  his 
passages,  put  the  books  in  their  place,  and  then  to  write  out 
from  memory  the  words. 

But  if  there  be  no  ground  for  the  vulgar  opinion,  that  a 
strong  faculty  of  retention  is  incompatible  with  intellectual 
capacity  in  general,  the  converse  opinion  is  not  better  founded, 
which  has  been  maintained,  among  others,  by  Hoffbauer. 
This  doctrine  does  not,  however,  deserve  an  articulate  refutation ; 
for  the  common  experience  of  every  one  sufficiently  proves,  that 
intelligence  and  memory  hold  no  necessary  proportion  to  each 
other. 


i 


I 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE   REPRODUCTIVE    FACULTY.  -  LAWS    OF    ASSOCIATIO.Y  - 
SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 

I  NOW  pas.s  to  the  next  faculty  in  order, -the  faculty  which 
I  have  called  the  Reproductive.     I  am  not  satisfied  with  this 
name  ;  for  it  does  not  precisely,  of  itself,  mark  what  I  wish  to 
be  expressed,  — namely,  the  process  by  which  what  is  lyin-  dor- 
mant m  memory  is  awakened,  as  contradistinguished  from  the 
representation  in  consciousness  of  it  as  awakened.     The  two 
processes  certainly  suppose  each  other;  for  we  cannot  awaken 
a  cogmtion  without  its  being  represented,  -  the  representation 
bemg,  m  fact,  only  its  state  of  waking;  nor  can  a  latent  thought 
or  affection  be  represented,  unless  certain  conditions  be  fuliilled 
by  which  ,t  is  called  out  of  obscurity  into  the  light  of  conscious- 
ness.    The  two  processes  are  relative  and  correlative,  but  not 
more  identical  than  hill  and  vaUey.     I  am  not  satisfied,  I  say, 
with  the  tem  reproduction  for  the  process  by  which  the  dormant 
thought  or  affection  is  aroused ;  for  it  does  not  clearly  denote 
what  It  IS  intended  to  express.     Perhaps  the  Remscitative  Fac- 
utty  would  have  been  better;  and  the  term  reproduction  miMit 
have  been  employed  to  comprehend  the  whole  process,  inade"up 
of  the  correlative  acts  of  Retention,  Resuscitation,  and  Represen- 
tation.   Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  I  shall  at  present  continue  to 
employ  the  term,  in  the  limited  meaning  I  have  already  assigned. 
The  phienomenon  of  Reproduction  is  one  of  the  most  won- 
derful m  the  whole  compass  of  psychology;  and  it  is  one  in  the 
explanation  of  which  philosophy  Las  been  more  successful  than 
m  almost  any  other.     The  Schokstic  psychologists  seem  to  have 
regarded  the  succession  in  the  train  of  thought,  or,  as  they  called 

'^  (421) 


422 


THE  REPRODUCTIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


423 


P 


it,  the  excitation  of  the  species,  with  pecuHar  wonder,  as  one  of 
the  most  inscrutable  mysteries  of  nature ;  and  yet,  what  is 
curious,  Aristotle  has  left  almost  as  complete  an  analysis  of  the 
laws  by  which  this  phaenomenon  is  regulated,  as  has  yet  been 
accomplished.  It  required,  however,  a  considerable  progress  in 
the  inductive  philosophy  of  mind,  before  this  analysis  of  Aris- 
totle could  be  appreciated  at  its  proper  value ;  and  in  fact,  it 
was  only  after  modern  philosophers  had  rediscovered  the  prin- 
cipal laws  of  Association,  that  it  was  found  that  these  laws  had 
been  more  completely  given  two  thousand  years  before. 

The  faculty  of  Reproduction  is  governed  by  the  laws  which 
regulate  the  Association  of  the  mental  train ;  or,  to  speak  more 
correctly,  Reproduction  is  nothing  but  the  result  of  these  laws. 
Every  one  is  conscious  of  a  ceaseless  succession  or  train  of 
thoughts,  one  thought  suggesting  another,  which  again  is  the 
cause  of  exciting  a  third,  and  so  on.  In  what  manner,  it  may 
be  asked,  does  the  presence  of  any  thought  determine  the 
introduction  of  another  ?  Is  the  train  subject  to  laws,  and  if  so, 
by  what  laws  is  it  regulated  ? 

The  train  of  thought  subject  to  laws.  —  That  the  elements  of 
the  mental  train  are  not  isolated,  but  that  each  thought  forms  a 
link  of  a  continuous  and  uninterrupted  chain,  is  well  illustrated 
by  Hobbes.  "  In  a  company,"  he  says,  "  in  which  the  conver- 
sation turned  upon  the  late  civil  war,  what  could  be  conceived 
more  impertinent  than  for  a  person  to  ask  abruptly,  what  was 
the  value  of  a  Roman  denarius  ?  On  a  little  reflection,  how- 
ever, I  was  easily  able  to  trace  the  train  of  thought  which 
suggested  the  question ;  for  the  original  subject  of  discourse 
naturally  introduced  the  history  of  the  king,  and  of  the  treach- 
ery of  those  who  surrendered  his  person  to  his  enemies ;  this 
again  introduced  the  treachery  of  Judas  Iscariot,  and  the  sum 
of  money  which  he  received  for  his  reward." 

But  if  thoughts,  and  feelings,  and  conations  (for  you  must 
observe,  that  the  train  is  not  limited  to  the  phienomena  of 
cognition  only),  do  not  arise  of  themselves,  but  only  in  casual 
connection  with  preceding  and  subsequent  modifications  of  mind, 
it  remains  to  be  asked  and  answered,  —  Do  the  links  of  this 


s 


< 


chain  follow  each  other  under  any  other  condition  than  that  of 
simple  connection?  — in  other  words,  may  any  thought,  feeling, 
or  desire  be  connected  with  any  other '^     Or,  is  the  succession 
regulated  by  other  and  special  laws,  according  to  which  certain 
kinds  of  modification  exclusively  precede,  and  exclusively  fol- 
low, each  other  ?     The  slightest  observation  of  the  phaenomenon 
shows,  that  the  latter  alternative  is  the  case ;  and  on  this  all 
philosophers  are  agreed.     Nor  do  philosophers  differ  in  regard 
to  what  kind  of  thoughts  are  associated  together.     They  differ 
almost  exclusively  in  regard  to  the  subordmate  question,  of  how 
these  thoughts  ought  to  be  classified,  and  carried  up  into  system. 
This,  therefore,  is  the  question  to  which  I  shall  address  myself. 
The  laws  of  Association  — how  classified.  —  I  have  explained 
to  you  how  thoughts,  once  experienced,  remain,  though  out  of 
consciousness,  still  in  possession  of  the  mind ;  and  I  have  now 
to  show,  how  these  thoughts  retained  in  memory  may,  without 
any  excitation  from  without,  be  again  retrieved  by  an  excitation 
or  awakening  from  other  thoughts  within.     Philosophers  having 
•  observed,  that  one  thought  determined  another  to  arise,  and  that 
this  determination  only  took  place  between  thoughts  which  stood 
in  certain  relations  to  each  other,  set  themselves  to  ascertain  and 
classify  the  kinds  of  correlation  under  which  this  occurred,  in 
order  to  generalize  the  laws  by  which  the  phsenomenon  of  Re- 
production was  governed.     Accordingly  it  has  been  established, 
that  thoughts  are  associated,  that  is,  are  able  to  excite  each 
other;  —  1°,  If  coexistent,  or  immediately  successive,  in  tune; 
2°,  If  their  objects  are  conterminous  or  adjoining  in  space ;  3°, 
If  they  hold  the  dependence  to  each  other  of  cause  and  effect, 
or  of  mean  and  end,  or  of  whole  and  part ;  4°,  If  they  stand  in 
a  relation  either  of  contrast  or  of  similarity ;  5°,  If  they  are  the 
operations  of  the  same  power,  or  of  different  powers  conversant 
about  the  same  object;  6°,  If  their  objects  are  the  sign  and  the 
signified ;  or,  7°,  Even  if  their  objects  are  accidentally  denoted 
by  the  same  sound. 

These,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  are  all  the  classes  to  which  plii- 
losophers  have  attempted  to  reduce  the  principles /of  Mental 
Association.     Aristotle  recalled  the  laws  of  this  connection  to 


424 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


four,  or  rather  to  three,  —  Contiguity  in  time  and  space,  Resem- 
blance, and  Contrariety.  He  even  seems  to  have  thought  they 
might  all  be  earned  up  into  the  one  law  of  Coexistence.  St. 
Augustin  explicitly  reduces  association  to  a  single  canon, — 
namely,  Thoughts  that  have  once  coexisted  in  the  mind  are  af- 
terwards associated.  This  law,  which  I  would  call  the  law  of 
Redintegration,  was  afterwards  enounced  by  Malebranche,  Wolf, 
and  Bilfinger ;  but  without  any  reference  to  St.  Austin.  Hume, 
who  thinks  himself  the  first  philosopher  who  had  ever  attempted 
to  generalize  the  laws  of  association,  makes  them  three,  —  Re- 
semblance, Contiguity  in  time  and  place,  and  Cause  and  Effect. 
Stewart,  after  disclaiming  any  attempt  at  a  complete  enumera- 
tion, mentions  two  classes  of  circumstances  as  useful  to  be 
observed.  "  The  relations,"  he  says,  "  upon  which  some  of  them 
are  founded,  are  perfectly  obvious  to  the  mind  ;  those  which  are 
the  foundation  of  others,  are  discovered  only  in  consequence  of 
particular  efforts  of  attention.  Of  the  former  kind  are  the  rela- 
tions of  Resemblance  and  Analogy,  of  Contrariety,  of  Vicinity 
in  time  and  place,  and  those  which  arise  from  accidental  coinci- 
dences in  the  sound  of  different  words.  These,  in  general,  con- 
nect our  thoughts  together,  when  they  are  suffered  to  take  their 
natural  course,  and  when  we  are  conscious  of  little  or  no  active 
exertion.  Of  the  latter  kind  are  the  relations  of  Cause  and 
Effect,  of  Means  and  End,  of  Premises  and  Conclusion  ;  and 
those  others  which  regulate  the  train  of  thought  in  the  mind 
of  the  philosopher,  when  he  is  engaged  in  a  particular  investi- 
gation." 

Brown  divides  the  circumstances  affecting  association  into 
primary  and  secondary.  Under  the  primary  laws  of  Suggestion, 
he  includes  Resemblance,  Contrast,  Contiguity  in  time  and  place, 
—  a  classification  identical  with  Aristotle's.  By  the  secondary, 
he  means  the  vivacity,  the  recentness,  and  the  frequent  repeti- 
tion of  our  thoughts ;  circumstances  which,  though  they  exert 
an  influence  on  the  recurrence  of  our  thoughts,  belong  to  a 
different  order  of  causes  from  those  we  are  at  present  consider- 


mo'. 


These  laws  reduced  to  two,  and  even  to  one,  —  Now  all  the 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


425 


laws  which  I  have  hitherto  enumerated  may  be  easily  reduced 
to  two,  —  the  law  of  the  Simultaneity,  and  the  law  of  the  Besern- 
hlance  or  Affinity,  of  Thought.  Under  Simultaneity  I  include 
Immediate  Consecution  m  time ;  to  the  other  category  of  Affin^ 
ity  every  other  circumstance  may  be  reduced.  I  shall  take  the 
several  cases  I  have  above  enumerated,  and  having  exemplified 
their  influence  as  associating  principles,  I  shall  show  how  they 
are  all  only  special  modifications  of  the  two  laws  of  Simulta- 
neity and  Aflinity ;  which  two  laws,  I  shaU  finally  prove  to  you, 
are  themselves  only  modifications  of  one  supreme  law,  — the' 
law  of  Redintegration. 

The  law  of  Simultmieity.  —  The  first  law,  —  that  of  Simul- 
taneity, or  of  Coexistence  and  Immediate  Succession  in  time,  — 
is  too  evident  to  require  any  illustration.     "In  passing  along  a 
road,"  as  Mr.  Stewart  observes,  "  which  we  have  formerly  trav- 
elled in  the  company  of  a  friend,  the  particulars  of  the  conver- 
sation in  which  we  were  then  engaged,  are  frequently  suggested 
to  us  by  the  objects  we  meet  with.     In  such  a  scene,  we^'recol- 
lect  that  a  particular  subject  was  started ;  and  in  passing  the 
different  houses,  aiid  plantations,  and  rivers,  the  arguments  we 
were  discussing  when  we  last  saw  them  recur  spontaneously  to 
the  memory.     The  connection  which  is  formed  in  the  mind  be- 
tween the  words  of  a  language  and  the  ideas  they  denote ;  the 
connection  which  is  formed  between  the  different  words  of  a 
discourse  we  have  committed  to  memory ;  the  connection  be- 
tween the  different  notes  of  a  piece  of  music  in  the  mind  of  the 
musician,  are  all  obvious  instances  of  the  same  general  law  of 
our  nicture." 

The  law  of  Affinity,  — ThQ  second  law,  — that  of  the  Affinity 
of  thoughts,  —  will  be  best  illustrated  by  the  cases  of  which  it 
is  the  more  general  expression.  In  the  first  place,  in  the  case 
of  resembling,  or  analogous,  or  partially  identical  objects,  it  will 
not  be  denied  that  these  virtually  suggest  each  other.  The  im- 
agination of  Alexander  carries  me  to  the  imagination  of  Ca3sar, 
Ciesar  to  Charlemagne,  Charlemagne  to  Napoleon.  The  vision 
of  a  portrait  suggests  the  image  of  the  person  portrayed.  In  a 
company  one  anecdote  suggests  another  analogous.     That  re- 

36* 


426 


THE  LAWS   OF  ASSOCIATION. 


sembling,  analogous,  or  partially  identical  objects  stand  in  recip- 
rocal AtRnitj,  is  apparent ;  they  are  its  strongest  exemplifications. 
So  far  there  is  no  difficulty. 

In  the  second  place,  thoughts  standing  to  each  other  in  the 
relation  of  contrariety  or  contrast  are  mutually  suggestive. 
Thus  the  thought  of  vice  suggests  the  thought  of  virtue ;  and, 
in  the  mental  world,  the  prince  and  the  peasant,  kings  and  beg- 
gars, are  inseparable  concomitants.  On  this  principle  are  de- 
pendent those  associations  which  constitute  the  charms  of 
antithesis  and  wit.  Thus  the  whole  pathos  of  Milton's  apos- 
trophe to  light  lies  in  the  contrast  of  his  own  darkness  to  the 
.resplendent  object  he  addresses.  And  in  what  else  does  the 
beauty  of  the  following  line  consist,  but  in  the  contrast  and 
connection  of  life  and  death ;  life  being  represented  as  but  a 
wayfaring  from  grave  to  grave  ? 

Ttf  /?fOf;  —  £«  TVfiiioio  ^opdv,  km  TVfijSov  ddevu. 

Who  can  think  of  Marius  sitting  amid  the  ruins  of  Carthajre, 
without  thinking  of  the  resemblance  of  the  consul  and  the  city, 
—  without  thinking  of  the  difference  between  their  past  and 
present  fortunes  ?  And  in  the  incomparable  epigram  of  Molsa 
on  the  great  Pompey,  the  effect  is  produced  by  the  contrast  of 
the  life  and  death  of  the  hero,  and  in  the  conversion  of  the  very 
fact  of  his  posthumous  dishonor  into  a  theme  of  the  noblest 
panegyric. 

"Dux,  Pharia  quamvis  jaceas  inhumatus  arena. 
Noil  ideo  fati  est  sajvior  ira  tui : 
Indif^num  fuerat  tellus  tibi  victa  sepulcnim ; 
Non  decuit  coelo,  te,  nisi,  Magne,  tegi." 

Thus  that  objects,  though  contrasted,  are  still  akin,  —  still 
stand  to  each  other  in  a  relation  of  Affinity,  depends  on  their 
logical  analogy.  The  axiom,  that  the  knowledge  of  contraries 
is  one,  proves  that  the  thought  of  the  one  involves  the  thought 
of  the  other. 

In  the  third  place,  objects  contiguous  in  place  are  associated. 
Yon  recollect  the  famous  passage  of  Cicero  in  the  first  chapter 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


427 


of  the  fifth  book  I>e  Finibus,  of  which  the  following  is  the  con- 
clusion:-"  Tanta  vis  admonitionis  est  in  locis,  ut,  non  sine 

causa,  ex  Ins  memoriae  deducta  sit  disciplina Id  quidem 

infinitum  in  hac  urbe ;  quocumque  enim  ingredimur,  in  aliquam 

J  histonam  vestigium  ponimus."     But  how  do  objects  adjacent  in 

'  place  stand  in  Aflinity  to  ea^h  other?     Simply  because  local 

contiguity  binds  up  objects,  otherwise  unconnected,  into  a  sin-le 

object  of  perceptive  thought.  ° 

In  the/o«rtA  place,  thoughts  of  the  whole  and  the  parts,  of 
the  thing  and  iu  properties,  of  the  sign  and  the  thing  signified, 
—  of  these  It  IS  superfluous  to  illustrate  either  the  reality  of  the 
influence,  or  to  show  that  they  are  only  so  many  forms  of  Affin- 
ity ;  both  are  equally  manifest.     But  in  this  case  Aflinity  is  not 
the  only  principle  of  association ;  here  Simultaneity  also  occurs. 
One  observation  I  may  make  to  show,  that  what  Mr.  Stewart 
promulgates  as  a  distinct  principle  of  association,  is  only  a  sub- 
ordinate modification  of  the  two  great  laws  I  have  laid  down  •  — 
I  mean  his  association  of  objects  arising  from  accidental  coinci- 
dences in  the  sound  of  the  words  by  which  they  are  denoted. 
Here  the  association  between  the  objects  or  ideas  is  not  immedi- 
ate.    One  object  or  idea  signified  suggests  its  term  signifying. 
But  a  complete  or  partial  identity  in  sound  suggests  anothe^r 
word,  and  that  word  suggests  the  thing  or  thought  it  si^ifles. 
The  two  things  or  thoughts  are  thus  associated,  only  mediately 
through  the  association  of  their  signs,  .and  the  several  immedi- 
ate associations  are  very  simple  examples  of  the  general  laws. 

In  the  ffth  place,  thoughts  of  causes  and  effects  reciprocally 
suggest  each  other.  Thus  the  falling  snow  excites  the  imag- 
ination of  an  inundation ;  a  shower  of  hail,  a  thought  of  the 
destruction  of  the  fruit ;  the  sight  of  wine  carries  us  back  to 
the  grapes,  or  the  sight  of  the  grapes  carries  us  forward  to  the 
wine ;  and  so  forth.  But  cause  and  eff-ect  not  only  naturally, 
but  necessarily,  suggest  eaeh  other;  they  stand  in  the  closest 
Aff.nity ;  and,  therefore,  whatever  phajnomena  are  subsumed 
under  this  relation,  as  indeed  under  all  relations,  are,  conse- 
quently, also  in  Aflinity. 

One  grand  law  of  Redintegration.  —  I  have  now,  I  think, 


428 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


429 


gone  through  all  the  circumstances  which  philosophers  have 
constituted  into  separate  laws  of  Association ;  and  shown  that 
they  easily  resolve  themselves  into  the  two  laws  of  Simultaneity 
and  Affinity.  I  now  proceed  to  show  you,  that  these  two  laws 
themselves  are  reducible  to  that  one  law,  which  I  would  call  the 
law  of  Redintegration  or  Totality,  which,  as  I  already  stated,  I 
have  found  incidentally  expressed  by  St.  Augustin.  This  law 
may  be  thus  enounced,  —  Those  thoughts  suggest  each  other  which 
had  previously  constituted  parts  of  the  same  entire  or  total  act 
of  cognition.  Now  to  the  same  entire  or  total  act  belong,  as 
integral  or  constituent  parts,  in  the  first  place,  those  thoughts 
which  arose  at  the  same  time,  or  in  immediate  consecution  ;  and 
in  the  second,  those  thoughts  which  are  bound  up  into  one  by 
their  mutual  affinity.  Thus,  therefore,  the  two  laws  of  Simul- 
taneity and  Affinity  are  carried  up  into  unity,  in  the  higher  law 
of  Redintegration  or  Totality ;  and  by  this  one  law  the  whole 
phaenomena  of  Association  may  be  easily  explained. 

The  law  of  Redintegration  explained.  —  But  this  law  being 
established  by  induction  and  generalization,  and  affijrding  an 
explanation  of  the  various  phaenomena  of  Association,  it  may 
be  asked.  How  is  this  law  itself  explained  ?  On  what  principle 
of  our  intellectual  nature  is  it  founded  ?  To  this  no  answer  can 
be  legitimately  demanded.  It  is  enough  for  the  natural  philos- 
opher, to  reduce  the  special  laws  of  the  attraction  of  distant 
bodies  to  the  one  principle  of  gravitation ;  and  his  theory  is  not 
invalidated,  because  he  can  give  no  account  of  how  gravitation 
is  itself  determined.  In  all  our  explanations  of  the  phaenomena 
of  mind  and  matter,  we  must  always  arrive  at  an  ultimate  fact 
or  law,  of  which  we  are  wholly  unable  to  affi)rd  an  ulterior  ex- 
planation. "We  are,  therefore,  entitled  to  decline  attempting  any 
illustration  of  the  ground  on  which  the  supreme  fact  or  law  of 
Association  reposes  ;  and  if  we  do  attempt  such  illustration,  and 
fail  in  the  endeavor,  no  presumption  is,  therefore,  justly  to  be 
raised  against  the  truth  of  tlie  fact  or  principle  itself. 

But  an  illustration  of  this  great  law  is  involved  in  the  princi- 
ple of  the  unity  of  the  mental  energies,  as  the  activities  of  the 
subject  one  and  indivisible,  to  which  I  have  had  occasion  to 


. 


.. 


refer.     «  The  various  acts  of  mind,"  [says  Schmid,]  «  must  not 
be  viewed  as  single,— as  isolated,  manifestations ;  they  all  belong 
to  the  one  activity  of  the  Ego :  and,  consequently,  if  our  various 
mental  energies  are  only  partial  modifications  of  the  same  general 
activity,  they  must  all  be  associated  among  themselves.     Every 
mental  energy,  —  every  thought,  feeling,  desire  that  is  excited, 
excites  at  the  same  time  all  other  previously  existent  activities, 
in  a  certain  degree ;  it  spreads  its  excitation  .over  the  whole 
activities  of  the  mind,  as  the  agitation  of  one  place  of  a  sheet 
of  water  expands  itself,  in  wider  and  wider  circles,  over  the 
whole  surface  of  the  fluid,  although,  in  proportion  to  its  eccen- 
tricity, it  is  always  becoming  fainter,  until  it  is  at  last  not  to  be 
perceived.     The  force  of  every  internal  activity  exists  only  in 
a  certain  limited  degree ;  consequently,  the  excitation  it  deter- 
mines has  only  likewise  a  certain  limited  power  of  expansion, 
and  is  continually  losing  in  vigor  in  proportion  to  its  eccentricity. 
Thus  there  are  formed  particular  centres,  particular  spheres, 
of  internal  unity,  within  which  the  activities  stand  to  each  other 
in  a  closer  relation  of  action  and  reaction ;  and  this,  in  proportion 
as  they  more  or  less  belong  already  to  a  single  energy,  —  in 
proportion  as  they  gravitate  more  or  less  proximately  to  the 
same  centre  of  action.     A  plurality,  a  complement,  of  several 
activities  forms,  in  a  stricter  sense,  one  whole  activity  for  itself; 
an  invigoration  of  any  of  its  several  activities  is,  therefore,  an 
invigoration  of  the  part  of  a  whole  activity ;   and  as  a  part 
cannot  be  active  for  itself  alone,  there,  consequently,  results  an 
L  -igoration  of  the  whole,  that  is,  of  all  the  other  parts  of  which 
it  is  composed.     Thus  the  supreme  law  of  association,  —  that 
activities  excite  each  other  in  proportion  as  they  have  previously 
belonged,  as  parts,  to  one  whole  activity,  —  is  explained  from 
the  still  more  universal  principle  of  the  unity  of  all  our  mental 
energies  in  general. 

"  But  on  the  same  principle,  we  can  also  explain  the  ttvo  subal- 
tern laws  of  Simultaneity  and  Affinity.  The  pha3nomena  of 
mind  are  manifested  under  a  twofold  condition  or  form ;  for  they 
are  only  revealed,  1°,  As  occurrences  in  time ;  and,  2°,  As  the 
energies  or  modifications  of  the  Ego,  as  their  cause  and  subjecL 


430 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


431 


Time  and  Self  are  thus  the  two  forms  of  the  internal  world. 
By  these  two  forms,  therefore,  every  particular,  every  limited, 
unity  of  operation,  must  be  controlled ; —  on  them  it  must  depend. 
And  it  is  precisely  these  two  forms  that  lie  at  the  root  of  the 
two  laws  of  Simultaneity  and  Affinity.     Thus  acts  which  are 
exerted  at  the  same  time  belong,  by  that  very  circumstance,  to 
the  same  particular  unity,  —  to  the  same  definite  sphere  of 
mental  energy ;  in  other  words,  constitute  through  their  simul- 
taneity a  single  activity.     Thus  energies,  however  heterogeneous 
in  themselves,  if  developed  at  once,  belong  to  the  same  activity, 
—  constitute  a  particular  unity ;  and  they  will  operate  with  a 
greater  suggestive  influence  on  each  other,  in  proportion  as  they 
are  more  closely  connected  by  the  bond  of  time.     On  the  other 
hand,  the  affinity  of  mental  acts  or  modifications  will  be  deter- 
mined by  their  particular  relations  to  the  Ego,  as  their  cause  or 
subject.     As  all  the  activities  of  mind  obtain  a  unity  in  being 
all  the  energies  of  the  same  soul  or  active  principle  in  general, 
so  they  are  bound  up  into  particular  unities,  inasmuch  as  they 
belong  to  some  particular  faculty,  —  resemble  each  other  in  the 
common  ground  of  their  manifestation.     Thus  cognitions,  feel- 
ings, and   volitions  severally  awaken  cognitions,  feelings,  and 
volitions ;  for  they  severally  belong  to  the  same  faculty,  and, 
through  that  identity,  are  themselves  constituted  into  distinct 
unities :  or  again,  a  thought  of  the  cause  suggests  a  thought  of 
the  effi3ct,  a  thought  of  the  mean  suggests  a  thought  of  the  end, 
a  thought  of  the  part  suggests  a  thought  of  the  whole ;  for  cause 
and  effect,  end  and  mean,  whole  and  parts,  have  subjectively  an 
indissoluble  affmity,  as  they  are  all  so  many  forms  or  organi- 
zations of  thought.     In  like  manner,  the  notions  of  all  resembling 
objects  suggest  each  other,  for  they  possess  some  common  quality, 
through  which  they  are  in  thought  bound  up  in  a  single  act  of 
thought.     Even  the  notions  of  opposite  and  contrasted  objects 
mutually  excite  each  other  upon  tiie  same  principle ;  for  these 
are  logically  associated,  inasmuch  as,  by  the  laws  of  thought, 
the  notion  of  one  opposite  necessarily  involves  the  notions  of  the 
other ;  and  it  is  also  a  psychological  law,  that  contrasted  objects 
reheve  each  other.    Opposita,  juxta  posita,  se  invicem  collustranL 


When  the  operations  of  different  faculties  are  mutuaUy  sug- 
gestive, they  are,  likewise,  internally  connected  by  the  nature  of 
their  action  ;  for  they  are  either  conversant  with  the  same  object, 
and  have  thus  been  originally  determined  by  the  same  affection 
from  without,  or  they  have  originally  been  a.?sociated  tlirough 
some  form  of  the  mind  itself;  thus  moral  cognitions,  moral 
feelings,  and  moral  volitions,  may  suggest  each  other,  through 
the  common  bond  of  morality ;  the  moral  principle  in  this  cale 
uniting  the  operations  of  the  three  fundamental  powers  into  one 
general  activity." 

How  thoughts  apparently  unassociated  succeed  each  other,  — 
It  sometimes  happens,  that  thouglits  seem  to  follow  each  other 
immediately,  between  which  it  is  impossible  to  detect  any  bond 
of  association.     If  this  anomaly  be  insoluble,  the  whole  theory 
of   association  is  overthrown.     Philosophers  have  accordingly 
set  themselves  to  account  for  this  phienomenon.     To  deny  the 
fact  of  the  phienomenon  is  impossible ;  it  must,  therefore,  be 
explained  on  the  hypothesis  of  association.     Now,  in  their  at- 
tempts at  such  an  explanation,  all  philosophers  agree  in  regard 
to  the  first  step  of  the  solution,  but  they  differ  in  regard  to  the 
second.     They  agree  in  this,  —  that,  admitting  the  apparent,  the 
phaenomenal,  immediacy  of  the  consecution  of  the  two  unasso- 
ciated thoughts,  they  deny  its  reality.     They  all  affirm,  that 
there  have,  actually  intervened  one  or  more  thoughts,  through 
the  mediation  of  which,  the  suggestion  in  question  has  been 
affected,  and  on  the  assumption  of  which  intermediation,  the 
theory  of  association  remains  intact.     For  example,  let  us  sup- 
pose that  A  and  C  are  thoughts,  not  on  any  law  of  association 
suggestive  of  each  other,  and  that  A  and  C  appear  to  our  con- 
sciousness as  following  each  other  immediately.     In  this  case,  I 
say,  philosophers  agree  in  supposing,  that  a  thought  B,  as|pci- 
ated  with  A  and  with   C,  and  which  consequently  could  be 
awakened  by  A,  and  could  awaken  C,  has  intervened.     So  far 
they  are  at  one.     But  now  comes  their  separation.     It  is  asked, 
how  can  a  thought  be  supposed  to  intervene,  of  which  conscious- 
ness gives  us  no  indication  ?     In  reply  to  this,  two  answers  have 
been  made.     By  one  set  of  philosophers,  among  whom  I  may 


482 


THE  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION. 


particularly  specify  Mr.  Stewart,  it  is  said,  that  the  immediate 
thought  B,  having  been  awakened  by  A,  did  rise  into  conscious- 
ness, suggested  C,  and  was  instantly  forgotten.  This  solution 
is  apparently  that  exclusively  known  in  Britain.  Other  philos- 
ophers, following  the  indication  of  Leibnitz,  by  whom  the  theory 
of  obscure  or  latent  activities  was  first  explicitly  promulgated, 
maintain  that  the  intermediate  thought  never  did  rise  into  con- 
sciousness. They  hold  that  A  excited  B,  but  that  the  excite- 
ment was  not  strong  enough  to  rouse  B  from  its  state  of  latency, 
though  strong  enough  to  enable  it  obscurely  to  excite  C,  whose 
latency  was  less,  and  to  afford  it  vivacity  sufficient  to  rise  into 
consciousness. 

Explained  through  the  latent  modifications  of  mind.  —  Of 
these  opinions,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  declaring  for  the  latter. 
I  formerly  showed  you  an  analysis  of  some  of  the  most  palpable 
and  familiar  phaenomena  of  mind,  which  made  the  supposition 
of  mental  modifications  latent,  but  not  inert,  one  of  absolute 
necessity.  In  particular,  I  proved  this  in  regard  to  the  phcenom- 
ena  of  Perception.  But  the  fact  of  such  latencies  being  estab- 
lished in  one  faculty,  they  afford  an  easy  and  philosophical 
explanation  of  the  phainomena  in  all.  In  the  present  instance, 
if  we  admit,  as  admit  we  must,  that  activities  can  endure,  and 
consequently  can  operate,  out  of  consciousness,  the  question  is 
at  once  solved.  On  this  doctrine,  the  whole  theory  of  associa- 
tion obtains  an  easy  and  natural  completion ;  as  no  definite  line 
can  be  drawn  between  clear  and  obscure  activities,  which  melt 
insensibly  into  each ;  and  both,  being  of  the  same  nature,  must 
be  supposed  to  operate  under  the  same  laws.  In  illustration  of 
the  mediatory  agency  of  latent  thoughts  in  the  process  of  sug- 
gestion, I  formerly  alluded  to  an  analogous  phaenomenon  under 
the  ^ws  of  physical  motion,  which  I  may  again  call  to  your 
remembrance.  If  a  series  of  elastic  balls,  say  of  ivory,  are 
placed  in  a  straight  line,  and  in  mutual  contact,  and  if  the  first 
be  sharply  struck,  what  happens  ?  The  intermediate  balls  re- 
main at  rest ;  the  last  alone  is  moved. 

The  other  doctrine,  which  proceeds  upon  the  hypothesis  that 
we  can  be  conscious  of  a  thought  and  that  thought  be  instantly 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


433 


forgotten,  has  every  thing  against  it,  and  nothing  in  its  favor. 
In  the  first  place,  it  does  not,  like  the  counter  hypothesis  of  la- 
tent agencies,  only  apply  a  principle  which  is  already  proved  to 
exist ;  it,  on  the  contrary,  lays  its  foundation  in  a  fact  which  is 
not  shown  to  be  real.     But  in  the  second  place,  this  fact  is  not 
only  not  shown  to  be  real :  it  is  improbable,  —  nay,  impossible ; 
for  it  contradicts  the  whole  analogy  of  the  intellectual  phaenomena! 
The  memory  or  retention  of  a  thought  is  in  proportion  to  its 
vivacity  in  consciousness ;  but  that  all  trace  of  its  existence 
80  completely  perished  with  its  presence,  that  reproduction  be- 
came impossible,  even  the  instant  after,  —  this  assumption  vio- 
lates every  probability,  in  gratuitously  disallowing  the  estabhshed 
law  of  the  proportion  between  consciousness  and  memory.    But 
on  this  subject,  having  formerly  spoken,  it  is  needless  now  again 
to  dwell. 

So  much  for  the  Laws  of  Association,  —  the  laws  to  which  the 
faculty  of  Reproduction  is  subjected. 

Spontaneous  Suggestion  and  Reminiscence.  —  This  faculty,  I 
formerly  mentioned,  might  be  considered  as  operating,  either 
spontaneously,  without  any  interference  of  the  will,  or  as  modi- 
fied in  its  action  by  the  intervention  of  volition.     In  the  one 
case,  as  in  the  other,  the  Reproductive  Faculty  acts  in  subservi- 
ence to  its  own  laws.     In  the  former  case,  one  thought  it-  aUowed 
to  suggest  another  according  to  the  greater  general  connection 
subsisting  between  them ;  in  the  latter,  the  act  of  volition,  by 
concentrating  attention  upon  a  certain  determinate  class  of  as- 
sociating circumstances,  bestows  on  these  circumstances  an  ex- 
traordmary  vivacity,  and,  consequently,  enables  them  to  obtain 
the  preponderance,  and  exclusively  to  determine  the  succession 
of  the  intellectual  train.     The  former  of  these  cases,  where  the 
Reproductive  Faculty  is  left  wholly  to  itself,  may  not  improperly 
be  called  Spontaneous  Suggestion,  or  Suggestion  simjDly;  the 
latter  ought  to  obtain  the  name  of  Reminiscence  or  Recollection, 
(in   Greek  dvaixvijaig).      The  employment  of   these  terms  in 
these  significations  corresponds  with  the  meaning  they  obtain 
in  common  usage.     Philosophers  have  not,  however,  always  so 
applied  them.     But  as  I  have  not  entered  on  a  criticism  of  the 

37 


434 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


analyses  attempted  by  philosophers  of  the  faculties,  so  I  shall  say 
nothing  in  illustration  of  their  perversion  of  the  terms  by  which 
they  have  denoted  them. 

Recollection  or  Reminiscence  supposes  two  things.  "  First,  it 
is  necessary  that  the  mind  recognize  the  identity  of  two  repre- 
sentations, and  then,  it  is  necessary  that  the  mind  be  conscious 
of  something  different  from  the  first  impression,  in  consequence 
of  which  it  affirms  to  itself  that  it  had  formerly  experienced 
this  modification.  It  is  passing  marvellous,  this  conviction  that 
we  have  of  the  identity  of  two  representations ;  for  they  are 
only  similar,  not  the  same.  Were  they  the  same,  itr  would  be 
impossible  to  discriminate  the  thought  reproduced  from  the 
thought  originally  experienced."  This  circumstance  justly  ex- 
cited the  admiration  of  St.  Augustin,  and  he  asks  how,  if  we 
had  actually  forgotten  a  thing,  we  could  so  categorically  affirm, 
—  it  is  not  that,  when  some  one  named  to  us  another ;  or,  it  is 
that,  when  it  is  itself  presented.  The  question  was  worthy  of 
his  subtlety,  and  the  answer  does  honor  to  his  penetration.  His 
principle  is,  that  we  cannot  seek  in  our  own  memory  for  that  of 
which  we  have  no  sort  of  recollection.  We  do  not  seek  w^hat  has 
been  our  first  reflective  thought  in  infancy,  the  first  reasoning 
we  have  performed,  the  fii*st  free  act  which  raised  us  above  the 
rank  of  automata.  We  are  conscious  that  the  attempt  would 
be  fruitless ;  and  even  if  modifications  thus  lost  should  chance 
to  recur  to  our  mind,  we  should  not  be  able  to  say  with  truth 
that  we  had  recollected  them,  for  we  should  have  no  criterion  by 
which  to  recognize  them.  And  what  is  the  consequence  he  de- 
duces ?     It  is  w^orthy  of  your  attention. 

From  the  moment,  then,  that  Ave  seek  aught  in  our  memory, 
we  declare,  by  that  very  act,  that  we  have  not  altogether  for- 
gotten it ;  we  still  hold  of  it,  as  it  were,  a  part,  and  by  this  part, 
which  we  hold,  we  seek  that  which  we  do  not  hold.  And  what 
is  the  secret  motive  which  determines  us  to  this  research  ?  It 
is  that  our  memory  feels,  that  it  does  not  see  together  all  that  it 
w^as  accustomed  to  see  together.  It  feels  with  regret  that  it  still 
only  discovers  a  part  of  itself,  and  hence  its  disquietude  to  seek 
out  what  is  missing,  in  order  to  reannex  it  to  the  whole ;  like  to 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


435 


' 


those  repdles,  if  the  comparison  may  be  permitted,  whose  mem- 
bers, when  cut  asunder,  seek  again  to  reunite.     But  when  this 
detached  portion  of  our  memory  at  length  presents  itself,  _  the 
name,  for  example,  of  a  person,  which  had  escaped  us,  — how 
shall  we  proceed  to  reannex  it  to  the  other?     We  have  only  to 
aUow  nature  to  do  her  work.     For  if  the  name,  being  pro- 
nounced, goes  of  itself  to  reunite  itself  to  the  thought  of  the 
person  and  to  place  itself,  so  to  speak,  upon  his  face,  as  upon 
Its  ordmary  seat,  we  will  say,  without  hesitation,  —  there  it  is. 
And  if,  on   the   contrary,  it  obstinately  refuses  to  go  there  to 
place  Itself,  in  order  to  rejom  the  thought  to  which  we  had  else 
attached  it,  we  will  say  peremptorily  and  at  once,  — no,  it  does 
not  suit.     But  when  it  suits,  where  do  we  discover  this  luminous 
accordance  which  consummates  our  research  ?    And  where  can 
we  discover  it,  except  in  our  memory  itself,  -  in  some  back 
chamber,  I  mean,  of  that  labyrinth  where  what  we  considered 
as  lost  had  only  gone  astray.     And  the  proof  of  this  is  manifest. 
When  the  name  presents  itself  to  our  mind,  it  appears  neither 
novc  nor  strange,  but  old  and  familiar,  like  an  ancient  property 
of  which  we  have  recovered  the  title-deeds. 

Such  is  the  doctrine  of  one  of  the  profoundest  thinkers  of 
antiquity,  and  whose  philosophical  opinions,  were  they  coUected 
arranged,  and  illustrated,  would  raise  him  to  as  hio-h  a  rank 
among  metaphysiciajis,  as  he  ah-eady  holds  among  theologians. 

Ihe  consecutive   order  of  association   not   the  only  one  — 
"Among  psychologists,"  [says   CardaiUac,]  "those  who  have 
written  on  Memory  and  Reproduction  with  the  greatest  detail 
and  precision,  have  still  failed  in  giving  more  than  a  mea<.re 
outhne  of  these  operations.     They  have  taken  account  onlv "of 
the  notions  which  suggest  each  other  with  a  distinct  and  palpa- 
ble notoriety.     They  have  viewed  the  associations  only  in  the 
order  m  which  language  is  competent  to  express  them;  and  as 
language,  which  renders  them  still  more  palpable  and  distinct, 
can  only  express  them  in  a  comeciUive  order,- c^r,  only  express 
them  one  after  another,  they  have  been  led  to  suppose  that 
thoughts  only  awaken  in  succession.     Thus,  a  series  of  ideas 
mutually  associated  resembles,  on  the  doctrine  of  philosophers, 


436 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


a  chaiD,  in  which  every  hnk  draws  up  that  which  follows ;  and 
it  is  by  means  of  these  links  that  intelligence  labors  through,  in 
the  act  of  reminiscence,  to  the  end  which  it  proposes  to  attain. 

"  There  are  some,  indeed,  among  them,  who  are  ready  to  ac- 
knowledge, that  every  actual  circum.cance  is  associated  to  sev- 
eral fundamental  notions,  and,  consequently,  to  several  chains,  be- 
tween which  the  mind  may  choose ;  they  admit  even,  that  every 
link  is  attached  to  several  others,  so  that  the  whole  forms  a  hind 
of  trellis,  —  a  hind  of  net-worh,  which  the  mind  may  traverse  in 
every  direction,  but  still  always  in  a  single  direction  at  once,  — 
always  in  a  succession  similar  to  that  of  speech.  This  manner 
of  explaining  reminiscence  is  founded  solely  on  this,  —  that, 
content  to  have  observed  all  that  is  distinctly  manifest  in  the 
phiDUomenon,  they  have  paid  no  attention  to  the  under  play  of 
the  latescent  activities,  —  paid  no  attention  to  all  that  custom 
conceals,  and  conceals  the  more  effectually  in  proportion  as  it  is 
more  completely  blended  with  the  natural  agencies  of  mind. 

The  movement  of  thought  from  one  order  of  subjects  to  another. 
—  "  Thus  their  theory,  true  in  itself,  and  departing  from  a  well- 
estabhshed  principle,  the  Association  of  Ideas,  explains  in  a 
satisfactory  manner  a  portion  of  the  phaenomena  of  Reminis- 
cence ;  but  it  is  incomplete,  for  it  is  unable  to  account  for  the 
prompt,  easy,  and  varied  operation  of  this  faculty,  or  for  all  the 
marvels  it  performs.  On  the  doctrine  of  the  philosophers,  wo 
can  explain  how  a  scholar  repeats,  without  hesitation,  a  lesson 
he  has  learned,  for  all  the  words  are  associated  in  his  mind 
according  to  the  order  in  which  he  has  studied  them ;  how  he 
demonstrates  a  geometrical  theorem,  the  parts  of  which  are 
connected  together  in  the  same  manner;  these  and  similar 
reminiscences  of  simple  successions  present  no  difficulties  which 
the  common  doctrine  cannot  resolve.  But  it  is  impossible,  on 
this  doctrine,  to  explain  the  rapid  and  certain  movement  of 
thought,  which,  with  a  marvellous  facihty,  passes  from  one  order 
of  subjects  to  another,  only  to  return  again  to  the  first ;  which 
advances,  retrogrades,  deviates,  and  reverts,  sometimes  marking 
all  the  points  on  its  route,  again  clearing,  as  if  in  play,  immense 
intervals ;  which  runs  over,  now  in  a  manifest  order,  now  in  a 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE.  437 

seeming  irregularity,  all  the  notions  relative  to  an  object,  often 
relative  to  several,  between  which  no  connection  could  be  sus- 
pected ;  and  this  without  hesitation,  without  uncertainty,  without 
error,  ^  the  hand  of  a  skilful  musician  expatiates  over  the  keys 
of  the  most  complex  organ.  All  this  is  inexplicable  on  the 
meagre  and  contracted  theory  on  which  the  phenomena  of  Re- 
production have  been  thought  explained. 

Two  conditions  of  Reminiscence,  -  "  To  form  a  correct  notion 
of  the  phaenomena  of  Reminiscence,  it  is  requisite,  that  we 
consider  under  what  conditions  it  is  determined  to  exertion.     In 
the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  noted  that,  at  every  crisis  of  our  exist- 
ence, momentary  circumstances  are  the  causes  which  awaken 
our  activity,  and  set  our  recollection  at  work  to  supply  the  nec- 
essaries of  thought.     In  the  second  place,  it  is  as  constituting,  a 
want  (and  by  want,  1  mean  the  result  either  of  an  act  of  desire 
or  of  volition),  that  the  determining  circumstance  tends  princi- 
pally  to  awaken  the  thoughts  with  which  it  is  associated.     This 
being  the  case,  we  should  expect  that  each  circumstance  which 
constitutes  a  want  should  suggest,  likewise,  the  notion  of  an 
object,  or  objects,  proper  to  satisfy  it;  and  this  is  what  actually 
happens.     It  is,  however,  further  to  be  observed,  that  it  is  not 
enough  that  the  want  suggests  the  idea  of  the  object ;  for  if  that 
idea  were  alone,  it  would  remain  without  effect,  since  it  could 
not  guide  me  in  the  procedure  I  should  follow.     It  is  necessary 
at  the  same  time,  that,  to  the  idea  of  this  object  there  should  be 
associated  the  notion  of  the  relation  of  this  object  to  the  want 
of  the  place  where  I  may  find  it,  of  the  means  by  which  I  may 
procure  it,  and  turn  it  to  account,  etc.     For  instance,  I  wish  to 
make  a  quotation :- this  want  awakens  in  me  the  idea  of  the 
author  in  whom  the  passage  is  to  be  found,  which  I  am  desu'ous 
of  citing ;  but  this  idea  would  be  fruitless,  unless  there  were 
conjoined,  at  the  same  tune,  the  representation  of  the  volume 
of  the  place  where  I  may  obtain  it,  of  the  means  I  must  em-' 
ploy,  etc. 

Accessory  notions  awahened  —  "  Hence  I  infer,  in  the  first 
place,  that  a  want  does  not  awaken  an  idea  of  its  object  alone 
but  that  it  awakens  it  accompanied  with  a  number,  more  or  lesJ 

37* 


r _~ 


438 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


439 


considerable,  of  accessory  notions,  which  form,  as  it  were,  its 
train  or  attendance.  Tliis  train  may  vary  according  to  the  nature 
of  the  want  which  suggests  the  notion  of  an  object ;  but  the 
train  can  never  foil  wholly  off,  and  it  becomes  more  indissolubly 
attached  to  the  object,  in  proportion  as  it  has  been  more  fre- 
quently called  up  in  attendance. 

"I  infer,  in  the  second  place,  that  this  accompaniment  of 
accessory  notions,  simultaneously  suggested  with  the  principal 
idea,  is  far  from  being  as  vividly  and  distinctly  represented  in 
consciousness  as  that  idea  itself;  and  when  these  accessories 
have  once  been  completely  blended  with  the  habits  of  the  mind, 
and  its  reproductive  agency,  they  at  length  finally  disappear, 
becoming  fused,  as  it  were,  in  the  consciousness  of  the  idea  to 
which  they  are  attached.  Experience  proves  this  double  effect 
of  the  habits  of  Reminiscence.  If  we  observe  our  operations 
relative  to  the  gratification  of  a  want,  we  shall  perceive  that  we 
are  far  from  having  a  clear  consciousness  of  the  accessory 
notions ;  the  consciousness  of  them  is,  as  it  were,  obscured,  and 
yet  we  cannot  doubt  that  they  are  present  to  the  mind,  for  it  is 
they  that  direct  our  procedure  in  all  its  details. 

These  accessory  notions  unknown  to  consciousness.  —  "We 
must,  therefore,  I  think,  admit  that  the  thought  of  an  object 
immediately  suggested  by  a  desire,  is  always  accompanied  by 
an  escort,  more  or  less  numerous,  of  accessory  thoughts,  equally 
present  to  the  mind,  though,  in  general,  unknown  in  themselves 
to  consciousness;  that  these  accessories  are  not  without  their 
influence  in  guiding  the  operations  elicited  by  the  principal 
notion ;  and,  it  may  even  be  added,  that  they  are  so  much  the 
more  calculated  to  exert  an  effect  in  the  conduct  of  our  proced- 
ure, in  proportion  as,  having  become  more  part  and  parcel  of 
our  habits  of  Reproduction,  the  influences  they  exert  are  further 
withdrawn,  in  ordinary,  from  the  ken  of  consciousness."  The 
same  thing  may  be  illustrated  by  what  happens  to  us  in  the  case 
of  reading.  Originally,  each  word,  each  letter,  was  a  separate 
object  of  consciousness.  At  length,  the  knowledge  of  letters 
and  words  and  lines  being,  as  it  were,  fused  into  our  habits,  we 
no  longer  have  any  distinct  consciousness  of  them,  as  severally 


concurring  to  the  result,  of  which  alone  we  are  conscious.     But 
that  each  word  and  letter  has  its  effect, —  an  effect  which  can,  at 
any  moment,  become  an  object  of  consciousness,  is  shown  by  the 
following  experiment.     If  we  look  over  a  book  for  the  occurrence 
of  a  particular  name  or  word,  we  glance  our  eye  over  a  page 
from  top  to  bottom,  and  ascertain,  almost  in  a  moment,  that  itls 
or  is  not  to  be  found  therein.     Here  the  mind  is  hardly  con- 
scious of  a  single  word,  but  that  of  which  it  is  in  quest ;  but  yet 
it  is  evident,  that  each  other  word  and  letter  must  have  pro- 
duced an  obscure  effect,  and  which  effect  the  mind  was  ready 
to  discriminate  and  strengthen,  so  as  to  call  it  into  clear  con- 
sciousness, whenever  the  effect  was  found  to  be  that  which  the 
letters  of  the  word  sought  for  could  determine.      But,  if  the 
mind  be  not  unaffected  by  the  multitude  of  letters  and  words 
which  it  surveys,  if  it  be  able  to  ascertain  whether  the  combi- 
nation of  letters  constituting  the  word  it  seeks,  be  or  be  not 
actually  among  them,  and  all  this  without  any  distinct  conscious- 
ness of  all  it  tries  and  finds  defective,  —  why  may  we  not  sup- 
pose, —  why  are  we  not  bound  to  suppose,  that  the  mind  may, 
in  like  manner,  overlook  its  book  of  memory,  and  search  among 
its  magazines  of  latescent  cognitions  for  the  notions  of  which  il 
is  in  want,  awakening  these  into  consciousness,  and  allowing  the 
others  to  remain  in  their  obscurity  ? 

IJach  accessory  thought  calls  up  other  thoughts.  — '' K  more 
attentive  consideration  of  the  subject,"  [continues  Cardaillac,] 
I*  will  show,  that  we  have  not  yet  divined  the  faculty  of  Remin- 
iscence in  its  whole  extent.     Let  us  make  a  single  reflection. 
Continually  struck  by  relations  of  every  kind,  continually  as- 
sailed by  a  crowd  of  perceptions  and  sensations  of  every  variety, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  occupied  with  a  complement  of  thoughts  ;' 
we  experience  at  once,  and  we  are  more  or  less  distinctly^'con- 
scious  of,  a  considerable  number  of  wants, -- wants  sometimes 
real,  sometimes  factitious  or  imaginary,  —  pha^nomena,  however, 
all  stamped  with  the  same  characters,  and  all  stimulating  us  to 
act  with  more  or  less  of  energy.     And  as  we  choose  among  the 
different  wants  which  we  would  satisfy,  as  well  as  among  the 
different  means  of  satisfying  that  want  which  we  determine  to 


440 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


prefer ;  and  as  the  motives  of  this  preference  are  taken  eitlier 
from  among  the  principal  ideas  relative  to  each  of  these  several 
wants,  or  from  among  the  accessory  ideas  which  habit  has  estab- 
lished into  their  necessary  escorts ;  —  in  all  these  cases,  it  is  re- 
quisite that  all  the  circumstances  should  at  once,  and  from  the 
moment  they  have  taken  the  character  of  wants,  produce  an 
effect  correspondent  to  that  which,  we  have  seen,  is  caused  by 
each  in  particular.  Hence  we  are  compelled  to  conclude,  that 
the  complement  of  the  circumstances  by  which  we  are  thus 
aifected,  has  the  effect  of  rendering  always  present  to  us,  and, 
consequently,  of  placing  at  our  disposal,  an  immense  number  of 
thoughts;  some  of  which  certainly  are  distinctly  recognized, 
being  accompanied  by  a  vivid  consciousness,  but  the  greater 
number  of  which,  although  remaining  latent,  are  not  the  less 
effective  in  continually  exercising  their  peculiar  influence  on 
our  modes  of  judging  and  acting. 

"  We  might  say,  that  each  of  these  momentary  cu-cumstances 
is  a  kind  of  electric  shock  which  is  communicated  to  a  certain 
portion,  —  to  a  certain  limited  sphere,  of  intelligence  ;  and  the 
sum  of  all  these  circumstances  is  equal  to  so  many  shocks,  which, 
given  at  once  at  so  many  different  points,  produce  a  general 
agitation.  We  may  form  some  rude  conception  of  this  phainom- 
enon  by  an  analogy.  We  may  compare  it,  in  the  former  case, 
to  those  concentric  circles  which  are  presented  to  our  observa- 
tion on  a  smooth  sheet  of  water,  when  its  surface  is  agitated  by 
throwing  in  a  pebble ;  and,  in  the  latter  cose,  to  the  same  sur- 
face when  agitated  by  a  number  of  pebbles  thrown  shnultan- 
eously  at  different  points. 

"  To  obtain  a  clearer  notion  of  this  phainomenon,  I  may  add 
some  observations  on  the  relations  of  our  thoughts  among  them- 
selves, and  with  the  determining  circumstances  of  the  moment, 

"  1°,  Among  the  thoughts,  notions,  or  ideas  which  belong  to 
the  different  groups,  attached  to  the  principal  representations 
simultaneously  awakened,  there  are  some  reciprocally  connected 
by  relations  proper  to  themselves ;  so  that,  in  this  whole  com- 
plement of  coexistent  activities,  these  tend  to  excite  each  other 
^  higher  vigor,  and,  consequently,  to  obtain  for  themselves  a 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE.  441 

kind  of  preeminence  in  the  group  or  pai-ticular  circle  of  activit> 
to  which  they  belong.  ^ 

"  2°,  There  are  thoughts  associated,  whether  as  principals  or 
accessories,  to  a  greater  number  of  determining  circumstances 
or  to  circumstances  which  recur  more  frequently.     Hence  they 
present  themselves  oftener  than   the  others,  they  enter  more 
completely  into  our  habits,  and  take,  in  a  more  absolute  manner, 
the  character  of  customary  or  habitual  notions.    It  hence  results 
that  they  are  less  obtrusive,  though  more  energetic,  in  their  in- 
fluence, enacting,  as  they  do,  a  principal  part  in  almost  all  our 
deliberations  ;  and  exercising  a  stronger  influence  on  our  deter- 
minations. 

"3°  Among  this  great  crowd  of  thoughts,  simultaneously 
excited,  those  which  are  connected  with  circumstances  which 
more  vmdly  affect  us,  assume  not,  only  the  ascendant  over  others 
of  the  same  description  with  themselves,  but  likewise  predomi- 
nate over  all  those  which  are  dependent  on  circumstances  of  a 
teebler  determining  influence. 

"From  these  three  considerations,  we  ought,  therefore,  to 
infer,  that  the  thoughts  connected  with  circumstances  on  which 
our  attention  is  more  specially  concentrated,  are  those  which 
prevail  over  the  others  ;  for  the  effect  of  attention  is  to  render 
dominant  and  exclusive  the  object  on  which  it  is  directed,  and 
during  the  moment  of  attention,  it  is  the  circumstance  to  which 
we  attend  that  necessarily  obtains  the  ascendant. 

"  Thus  if  we  appreciate  correctly  the  pha^nomena  of  Repro- 
duction or  Reminiscence,  we  shall  recognize,  a,  an  incontestable 
lact,  that  our  thoughts  suggest  each  other,  not  one  by  one  suc- 
cessively, as  the  order  to  which  language  is  astricted  mi-rht 
lead  us   to  infer;   but  that  the  complement  of  circumstances 
under  which  we  at  every  moment  exist,  awakens  simultaneously 
a  great  number  of  thoughts;  these  it  calls  into  the  presence  of 
the  mmd,  either  to  place  them  at  our  disposal,  if  we  find  it  re- 
quisite to  employ  them,  or  to  make  them  cooperate  in  our  de- 
liberations, by  giving  them,  according  to  their  nature  and  our 
habits,  an  influence,  more  or  less  active,  on  our  judgments  and 
consequent  acta.  , 


442 


SUGGESTION  AND  REMINISCENCE. 


« It  is  also  to  be  observed,  that  in  this  great  crowd  of  thoughts 
always  present  to  the  mind,  there  is  only  a  small  number  of 
which  we  are  distinctly  conscious :  and  that  in  this  small  num- 
ber, we  ought  to  distinguish  those  which,  being  clothed  in  lan- 
guage oral  or  mental,  become  the  objects  of  a  more  fixed  atten- 
tion ;  those  which  hold  a  closer  relation  to  circumstances  more 
impressive  than  others ;  or  which  receive  a  predominant  char- 
acter by  the  more  vigorous  attention  we  bestow  on  them.  As 
to  the  others,  although  not  the  objects  of  clear  consciousness, 
they  are  nevertheless  present  to  the  mind,  there  to  perform  a 
very  importiuit  part  as  motive  principles  of  determination  ;  and 
the  influence  which  they  exert  in  this  capacity  is  even  the  more 
powerful  in  proportion  as  it  is  less  apparent,  being  more  dis- 
guised by  habit." 


CHAPTER    XXIV.  I 

THE   REPRESENTATIVE    FACULTY.  -  IMAGINATION. 

Having  terminated  the  separate  consideration  of  the  two 
first  of  the  three  correlative  processes  of  Retention,  Reproduc- 
tion, and  Representation,  I  proceed  to  the  special  discussion  of 
the  last, — the  Representative  Faculty. 

By  the  faculty  of  Representation,  as  I  formerly  mentioned,  I 
mean  strictly  the  power  the  mind  has  of  holding  up  vividly 
before  itself  the  thoughts  which,  by  the  act  of  Reproduction,  it 
has  recalled  into  consciousness.     Though  the  processes  of  Rep- 
resentation and   Reproduction  cannot   exist   independently   of 
each   other,  they  are  nevertheless  not  more  to  be  confounded 
into  one  than  those  of  Reproduction  and  Conservation.    They 
are,  indeed,  discriminated  by  differences   sufficiently   decisive. 
Reproduction,   as    we   have   seen,   operates,  in   part   at  least, 
out    of    consciousness.      Representation,   on   the   contrary,   is 
only  realized  as   it   is  reahzed  in  consciousness;    the    degree 
or  vivacity  of  the  representation    being  always  in  proportion 
to  the  degree  or  vivacity  of  our  consciousness  of  its  reahty. 
Nor  are  the  energies  of  Representation  and  Reproduction  al- 
ways exerted  by  the  same  individual  in  equal  intensity,  any 
more  than  the  energies  of  Reproduction  and  Retention.     Some 
minds  are  distinguished  for  a  higher  power  of  manifesting  one 
of  these  phiienomena ;  others,  for  manifesting  another ;  and  as 
it  is  not  always  the  person  who  forgets  nothing,  who  can  most 
promptly  recall  what  he  retains,  so  neither  is  it  always  the  per- 
son who  recollects  most  easily  and  correctly,  who  can  exhibit 
what  he  remembers  in  the  most  vivid  colors.     It  is  to  be  recol- 
lected, however,  that  Retention,  Reproduction,  and  Representa- 

(443) 


s\ 


444 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


'I 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


445 


tion,  though  not  in  different  persons  of  the  same  relative  vigor, 
are,  however,  in  the  same  individuals,  all  strong  or  weak  in 
reference  to  the  same  classes  of  objects.  For  example,  if  a 
man's  memory  be  more  peculiarly  retentive  of  words,  his  verbal 
reminiscence  and  imagination  will,  in  like  manner,  be  more  par- 
ticularly energetic. 

In  common  language,  it  is  not  of  course  to  be  expected  that 
there  should  be  found  terms  to  express  the  result  of  an  analysis, 
which  had  not  even  been  performed  by  philosophers  ;  and,  ac- 
cordingly, the  term  Imagination,  or  Phantasy,  which  denotes 
most  nearly  the  Representative  process,  does  this,  however,  not 
without  an  admixture  of  other  processes,  which  it  is  of  conse- 
quence for  scientific  precision  that  we  should  consider  apart. 

Improper  division  of  Imagination.  —  Philosophers  have  di- 
vided Imagination  into  two,  — what  they  call  the  Reproiluctive 
and  the  Productive.     By  the  former,  they  mean  Imagination 
considered  as  simply  reexhibiting,  representing,  the  objects  pre- 
sented by  perception,  that  is,  exhibiting  them  without  addition 
or  retrenchment,  or  any  change  in  the  relations  which  they 
reciprocally  held  when  first  made  known  to  us  through  sense. 
This  operation  Mr.  Stewart  has  discriminated  as  a  separate  fac- 
ulty, and  bestowed  on  it  the  name  of  Conception.     This  dis- 
crimination and  nomenclature  I  think  unfortunate.     The  dis- 
crimination  is   unfortunate,   because   it   is   unphilosophical   to 
distinguish,  as  a  separate   foculty,  what   is   evidently  only  a 
special  ai)plication  of  a  common  power.     The  nomenclature  is 
unfortunate,  for  the  term  Conception,  which  means  a  taking  up 
in  bundles,  or  grasping  into  unity,  —  this  term,  I  say,  ought  to 
have  been  left  to  denote,  what  it  previously  was,  and  only  prop- 
perly  could  be,  applied  to  express,  —  the  notions  we  have  of 
classes  of  objects,  in  other  words,  what  have  been  called  our 
general  ideas.     Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  it  is  evident,  that 
the  Reproductive  Imagination  (or  Conception,  in  the  abusive 
language  of  the  Scottish  philosophers)  is  not  a  simple  faculty. 
It  comprises  two  processes: — first,  an   act  of  representation 
strictly  so  called ;  and,  secondly,  an  act  of  reproduction  arbi- 
trarily Umited  by  certain  contmgent  circumstances  ;  and  it  is 


from  the  arbitrary  limitation  of  this  second  constituent,  that  the 
faculty  obtains  the  only  title  it  can  exhibit  to  an  independent 
existence.  Nor  can  the  Productive  Imagination  estabhsh  a 
better  claim  to  the  distinction  of  a  separate  faculty  than  the 
Reproductive.  The  Productive  or  Creative  Imagination  is 
that  which  is  usually  signified  by  the  term  Imagination  or 
Fancy,  in  ordinary  language.  Now,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  to 
be  observed,  that  the  terms  productive  or  creative  are  very  im- 
properly applied  to  Imagination,  or  the  Representative  Faculty 
of  mind.  It  is  admitted  on  all  hands,  that  Imagination  creates 
nothing,  that  is,  produces  nothing  new  ;  and  the  terms  in  ques- 
tion are,  therefore,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  those  who  em- 
ploy them,  only  abusively  apphed  to  denote  the  operations  of 
Fancy,  in  the  new  arrangement  it  makes  of  the  old  objects  fur- 
nished to  it  by  the  senses.  We  have  now,  therefore,  only  to 
consider,  whether,  in  this  corrected  meaning,  Imagination,  as  a 
plastic  energy,  be  a  simple  or  a  complex  operation.  And  that 
it  is  a  complex  operation,  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  at  all  difficult 
to  prove. 

What  is  Representation  ?  —  In  the  view  I  take  of  the  funda- 
mental processes,  the  act  of  Representation  is  merely  the  energy 
of  the  mind  in  holding  up  to  its  own  contemplation  what  it  is 
determined  to  represent.  I  distinguish,  as  essentially  different, 
the  Representation,  and  the  determination  to  represent.  I  ex- 
clude from  tlie  Faculty  of  Representation  all  power  of  prefer- 
ence among  the  objects  it  holds  up  to  view.  This  is  the  func- 
tion of  faculties  wholly  different  from  that  of  Representation, 
which,  tliougli  active  in  representing,  is  wholly  passive  as  to 
what  it  represents. 

Two  conditions  of  Representation.  —  What,  then,  it  may  be 
asked,  are  the  powers  by  which  the  Representative  Faculty  is 
determined  to  represent,  and  to  represent  this  particular  object, 
or  this  particular  complement  of  objects,  and  not  any  other? 
These  are  two.  Tlie  frst  of  these  is  the  Reproductive  Fac- 
ulty. This  faculty  is  the  great  immediate  source,  from  which 
the  Representative  receives  both  the  materials  and  tlie  deter- 
mination to  represent ;  and  the  laws  by  which  the  Reproductive 

38 


446 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


447 


Faculty  is  governed,  govern  also  the  Representative.  Accord- 
ingly, if  there  were  no  other  laws  in  the  arrangement  and  com- 
bination of  thought  than  those  of  association,  the  Representative 
Faculty  would  be  determined  in  its  manifestations,  and  in  the 
character  of  its  manifestations,  by  the  Reproductive  Faculty 
alone ;  and,  on  this  supposition,  Representation  could  no  more 
be  distinguished  from  Reproduction  than  Reproduction  from 
Association. 

The  Faculty  of  Relations.  —  But  there  is  another  elementary 
process  which  we  have  not  yet  considered,  —  Comparison,  or 
the  Faculty  of  relations,  to  which  the  representative  act  is 
likewise  subject,  and  which  plays  a  conspicuous  part  in  deter- 
mining in  what  combinations  objects  are  represented.  By  the 
process  of  Comparison,  the  complex  objects,  —  the  congeries 
of  phsenomena  called  up  by  the  Reproductive  Faculty,  undergo 
various  operations.  They  are  separated  into  parts,  they  are 
analyzed  into  elements ;  and  these  parts  and  elements  are  again 
compounded  in  every  various  fashion.  In  all  tliis  the  Repre- 
sentative Faculty  cooperates.  It,  first  of  all,  exhibits  the  phoe- 
nomena  so  called  up  by  the  laws  of  ordinary  association.  In 
tjiis  it  acts  as  handmaid  to  the  Reproductive  Faculty.  It  then 
exhibits  the  phaenomena  as  variously  elaborated  by  the  analysis 
and  synthesis  of  the  Comparative  Faculty,  to  which,  in  like 
manner,  it  performs  the  part  of  a  subsidiary. 

Imagination  a  complex  process.  —  This  being  understood,  you 
will  easily  perceive,  that  the  Imagination  of  common  language, 
—  the  Productive  Imagination  of  philosophers,  —  is  nothing  but 
the  Representative  process,  plus  the  process  to  which  I  would 
give  the  name  of  the  Comparative.  In  this  compound  opera- 
tion, it  is  true  that  the  representative  act  is  the  most  conspicu- 
ous, perhaps  the  most  essential,  element.  For,  in  the  ^r5^  place, 
it  is  a  condition  of  the  possibility  of  the  act.  of  comparison, — 
of  the  act  of  analytic  synthesis,  that  the  material  on  which  it 
operates  (that  is,  the  objects  reproduced  in  their  natural  connec- 
tions) should  be  held  up  to  its  observ^ation  in  a  clear  light,  in 
order  that  it  may  take  note  of  their  various  circumstances  of 
relation  ;  and,  in  the  second,  that  the  result  of  its  own  elabora- 


>\ 


■ 


tion,  that  is,  the  new  arrangements  which  it  proposes,  should  be 
realized  in  a  vivid  act  of  Representation.  Thus  it  is,  that,  in 
the  view  both  of  the  vulgar  and  of  philosophers,  the  more  ob- 
trusive, though  really  the  more  subordinate,  element  in  this 
compound  process  has  been  elevated  into  the  principal  constitu- 
ent; whereas,  the  act  of  Comparison,  —  the  act  of  separation 
and  reconstruction,  has  been  regarded  as  identical  with  the  act 
of  Representation. 

Thus  Imagination,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  term,  is 
not  a  simple  but  a  compound  faculty,  —  a  faculty,  however,  in 
which  Representation,  —  the  vivid  exhibition  of  an  object,  — 
forms  the  principal  constituent.  If,  therefore,  we  were  obliged 
to  find  a  common  word  for  every  elementary  process  of  our 
analysis,  —  Imagination  would  be  the  term,  which,  with"  the 
least  violence  to  its  meaning,  could  be  accommodated  to  express 
the  Representative  Faculty. 

Imagination  not  limited  to  objects  of  sense.  —  By  Imagina- 
tion, thus  limited,  you  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  faculty  of 
representing  mere  objects  of  sense  alone  is  meant.  On  the 
contraiy,  a  vigorous  power  of  Representation  is  as  indispensable 
a  condition  of  success  in  the  abstract  sciences,  as  in  the  poetical 
and  plastic  arts ;  and  it  may,  accordingly,  be  reasonably  doubted 
whether  Ai-istotle  or  Homer  were  possessed  of  the  more  power- 
ful Imagination.  "  We  may,  indeed,  affirm,  that  there  are  as 
many  different  kinds  of  imagination  as  there  are  different  kinds 
of  intellectual  activity.  There  is  the  imagination  of  abstrac- 
tion, which  represents  to  us  certain  phases  of  an  object  to  the 
exclusion  of  others,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  sign  by  which 
the  phases  are  united ;  the  imagination  of  wit,  which  represents 
differences  and  contrasts,  and  the  resemblances  by  which  these 
are  again  combined ;  the  imagination  of  judgment,  which  repre- 
sents the  various  qualities  of  an  object,  and  binds  them  together 
under  the  relations  of  substance,  of  attribute,  of  mode ;  the 
imagination  of  reason,  which  represents  a  principle  in  connec- 
tion with  its  consequences,  the  effect  in  dependence  on  its  cause ; 
the  imagination  of  feehng,  which  represents  the  accessory  im- 
ages, kindred  to  some  particular,  and  which  therefore  confer  on 


448 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


■f. 


it  greater  compass,  depth,  and  intensity ;  the  imagination  of  vo- 
lition, which  represents  all  the  circumstances  which  concur  to 
persuade  or  dissuade  from  a  certain  act  of  will ;  the  imagination 
of  the  passions,  which,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  aiFection, 
represents  all  that  is  homogeneous  or  analogous;  finally,  the 
imagination  of  the  poet,  which  represents  whatever  is  new,  or 
beautiful,  or  sublime,  —  whatever,  in  a  word,  it  is  determined 
to  represent  by  any  interest  of  art."  *     The  term  Imagination, 
however,  is  less  generally  applied  to  the  representations  of  the 
Comparative  Faculty  considered  in  the  abstract,  than  to  the 
representations  of  sensible  objects  concretely  modified  by  com- 
parison.    The  two  kinds  of  imagination  are,  in  fact,  not  fre- 
quently combined.      Accordingly,  using   the  term  in   this   its 
ordinary  extent,  that  is,  in  its  limitation  to  objects  of  sense,  it  is 
finely  said  by  Mr.   Hume:    "Nothing  is  more   dangerous  to 
reason  than  the  flights  of  imagination,  and  nothing  has  been  the 
occasion  of  more  mistakes  among  philosophers.     Men  of  bright 
fancies  may,  in  this  respect,  be  compared  to  those  angels  whom 
the    Scriptures   represent  as  covering   their   eyes   with   their 


wmgs. 


» 


Considering  the  Representative  Faculty  in  subordination  to 
its  two  determinants,  the  faculty  of  Reproduction  and  the  fac- 
ulty of  Comparison  or  Elaboration,  we  may  distinguish  three 
principal  orders  in  ichich  Imagination  represents  ideas :  —  "  1°, 
The  Natural  order ;  2°,  The  Logical  order ;  3°,  The  Poetical 
order.  The  Natural  order  is  that  in  which  we  receive  the  im- 
pression of  external  objects,  or  the  order  according  to  which 
our  thoughts  spontaneously  group  themselves.  The  Logical 
order  consists  in  presenting  what  is  universal,  prior  to  what  is 
contained  under  it  as  particular,  or  in  presenting  the  particulars 
first,  and  then  ascending  to  the  universal  which  they  constitute. 
The  former  is  the  order  of  Deduction,  the  latter  that  of  Induc- 
tion. These  two  orders  have  this  in  common,  that  they  deliver 
to  us  notions  in  the  dependence  in  which  the  antecedent  ex- 
plains the  subsequent.     The  Poetical  order  consists  in  seizing 

*  [Translated  by  Hamilton,  together  witii  the  other  citations  in  this 
chapter,  unless  otherwise  credited,  from  Ancillon's  Essais  Philosophiques.] 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY.  449 

indiviclual  circumstances,  and  in  grouping  them  in  such  a  man- 
ner  that  the  Imagination  sliall  represent  them  so  as  they  mi^^ht 
be  offered  by  the  sense.     The  Natural  order  is  involuntary^  it' 
IS  estabhshed  independently  of  our  concurrence.     The  Lo-ical 
order  is  a  child  of  art,  it  is  the  result  of  our  will ;  but  it  is  "con- 
formed to  the  laws  of  intelligence,  which  tend  always  to  recall 
t^e  particular  to  the  general,  or  the  general  to  the  particular. 
Ihe  Poetical  order  is  exclusively  calculated  on  efect.     Pindar 
would  not  be  a  lyric  poet,  if  his  thoughts  and  images  followed 
each  other  m  the  common  order,  or  in  the  logical  order.     The 
state  of  mind  in  which  thought  and  feeling  clothe  themselves 
m  lyric  forms,  is  a  state  in  which  thoughts  and  feeKngs  are 
associated  m  an  extraordinary  manner,  -  in  which  they  have, 
m  fact,  no  other  relation  than  that  which  groups  and  moves 
them  around    the    dominant   thought  or  feeling  which   forms 
the  subject  of  the  ode." 

Imagination  as  affected  hy  different  trains  of  association.^ 
'Thoughts  which  follow  each  other  only  in  the  natural  order 
or  as  they  are  associated  in  the  minds  of  men  in  general,  fom^ 
tedious  conversations  and  tiresome  books.     Thoughts,  on  the 
other  hand,  whose  connection  is  singular,  capricious,  extraordi- 
nary, are  unpleasing;  whether  it  be  that  they  strike  us  as  im- 
probable, or  that  the  effort  which  has  been  required  to  produce, 
supposes   a   corresponding   effort   to   comprehend.      Tliou-hts 
whose  association  is  at  once  simple  and  new,  and  which,  thou-h 
not  previously  witnessed  in  conjunction,  are  yet  approximated 
without  a  violent  exertion, -such  thoughts  please  universally, 
by  affording  the  mind  the  pleasures  of  novelty  and  exercise  at 
once." 

"  A  peculiar  kind  of  Imagination,  determined  by  a  peculiar 
order  of  association,  is  usually  found  m  every  period  of  life,  in 
every  sex,  in  every  country,  in  every  religion.  A  knowledge 
of  men  principally  consists  in  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  by 
Which  their  thoughts  are  linked  and  represented.  The  study 
of  this  is  of  importance  to  the  instructor,  in  order  to  direct  iU 
character  and  intellect  of  his  pupils ;  to  ih^  statesman,  that  he 
may  exert  his  influence  on  the  public  opinion  and  manners  of 

38* 


11- 


450 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


a  people  ;  to  the  poet,  that  he  may  give  truth  and  reality  to  his 
dramatic  situations ;  to  the  orator,  in  order  to  convince  and  per- 
suade ;  to  the  man  of  the  world,  if  he  would  give  interest  to 
his  conversation. 

"  Authors  who  have  made  a  successful  study  of  this  suhject 
skim  over  a  multitude  of  circumstances  under  which  an  occur- 
rence   has    taken   place,    because   they  are   aware   that   it  is 
proper  to  reject  what  is  only  accessory  to  the  object  which 
they  would   present  in  prominence.      A  vulgar  mind  forgets 
and  spares  nothing ;  he  is  ignorant  that  conversation  is  always 
but  a  selection ;  that  every  story  is  subject  to  the  laws  of  dra- 
matic poetry,  —festinat  ad  eventum  ;    and  that  all  which  does 
not  concur  to  the  effect,  destroys  or  weakens  it.     The  invol- 
untary associations  of  their  thoughts  are  imperative  on  minds  of 
this  description  ;  they  are  held  in  thraldom  to  the  order  and  cir- 
cumstances in  which  their  perceptions  were  originally  obtained." 
This  has  not,  of  course,  escaped  the  notice  of  the  greatest  ob- 
server of  human  nature.     Mrs.  Quickly,  in  reminding  Falstaff 
of  his  promise  of  marnage,  supplies  a  good  example  of  this 
peculiarity.      '  Thou  didst  swear  to  me  upon  a  parcel-gilt  gob- 
let, sitting  in  my  Dolphin  chamber,  at  the  round  table,  by  a 
sea-coal  fire,  upon  Wednesday  in  Whitsun  week,  when   the 
prince  broke  thy  head  for  likening  his  father  to  a  singing  man 
of  Windsor,'  —  and  so  forth. 

'•  Dreaming,  Somnambulism,  Reverie,  are  so  many  effects  of 
imagination  determined  by  association, — at  least,  states  of  mind 
in  which  these  have  a  decisive  influence.  If  an  impression  on 
the  sense  often  commences  a  dream,  it  is  by  imagination  and 
su<^"-estion  that  it  is  developed  and  accomplished.  Dreams 
have  frequently  a  degree  of  vivacity  which  enables  them  to 
compete  with  the  reality ;  and  if  the  events  which  they  repre- 
sent to  us  were  in  accordance  with  the  circumstances  of  time 
and  place  in  which  we  stand,  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to 
distinguish  a  vivid  dream  from  a  sensible  perception."  "If," 
says  Pascal,  "  we  dreamt  every  night  the  same  thing,  it  would 
perhaps  affect  us  as  powerfully  as  the  objects  which  we  perceive 
every  day.     And  if  an  artisan  were  certain  of  dreaming  every 


/'■•i 


451 


V^ 


night  for  twelve  hours  that  he  was  king,  I  am  convinced  that  he 
would  be  ahnost  as  happy  as  a  king,  who  dreamt  for  twelve 
hours  that  he  was  an  artisan.  If  we  dreamt  every  night  that 
we  were  pursued  by  enemies  and  harassed  by  horrible  phan- 
toms, we  should  suffer  almost  as  much  as  if  that  were  true,  and 
we  should  stand  in  as  great  dread  of  sleep,  as  we  should  of  wak- 
ing, had  we  real  cause  to  apprehend  these  misfortunes 

It  is  only  because  dreams  are  different  and  inconsistent,  that 
we  can  say,  when  we  awake,  that  we  have  dreamt ;  for  life  is  a 
dream  a  little  less  inconstant."     Now  the  case  which  Pascal 
here  hypothetically  supposes,  has  actually  happened.     In  a  very 
curious    German  work,  by  Abel,  I  find   the   following   case, 
which  I  abridge:  — A  young  man  had  a  cataleptic  attack,  in 
consequence  of  which  a  singular  effect  was  operated  in  his  men- 
tal constitution.      Some  six   minutes   after  falling   asleep,  he 
began  to  speak  distinctly,  and  ahnost  always  of  the  same  objects 
and  concatenated  events,  so  that  he  carried  on  from  night  to 
night  the  same  history,  or  rather  continued  to  play  the  same 
part.     On  wakening,  he  had  no  reminiscence  whatever  of  his 
dreaming  thoughts,  —  a  circumstance,  by  the  way,  which  distin- 
guishes this  as  rather  a  case  of  somnambuhsm  than  of  common 
dreaming.     Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  he  played  a  double 
part  in  his  existence.     By  day,  he  was  the  poor  apprentice  of  a 
merchant ;  by  night,  he  was  a  married  man,  the  father  of  a 
family,  a  senator,  and  in  affluent  circumstances.     If,  during  his 
vision,  any  thing  was  said  in  regard  to  his  waking  state,  he  de- 
clared it  unreal  and  a  dream.     This  case,  which  is  established 
on  the  best  evidence,  is,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  unique. 

The  influence  of  dreams  upon  our  character  is  not  without 
its  interest.  A  i)articular  tendency  may  be  strengthened  in  a 
man  solely  by  the  repeated  action  of  dreams.  Dreams  do  not, 
however,  as  is  commonly  supposed,  afford  any  appreciable  indi- 
cation of  the  character  of  individuals.  It  is  not  always  the 
subjects  that  occupy  us  most,  when  awake,  that  form  i\\Q  matter 
of  our  dreams ;  and  it  is  curious  that  the  persons  the  dearest 
to  us  are  precisely  those  about  whom  we  dream  most  rarely. 
Somnambulism  is  a  pha^nomenon  still  more  astonishing.     In 


i 


452         THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 

this  singular  state,  a  person  performs  a  regular  series  of  rational 
actions,  and  those  frequently  of  the  most  difficult  and  delicate 
nature,  and  what  is  still  more  marvellous,  with  a  talent  to  which 
he  could  make  no  pretension  when  awake.     His  memory  and 
reminiscence  supply  him  with  recollections  of  words  and  things, 
which  perhaps  were  never  at  his  disposal  in  the  ordinary  state ; 
he  speaks  more  fluently  a  more  refined  language  ;  and,  if  we 
are  to  credit  what  the  evidence  on  which  it  rests  hardly  allows 
us  to  disbelieve,  he  has  not  only  perceptions  tlirough  other 
channels  than  the  common  organs  of  sense,  but  the  sphere  ot 
his  co-mitions  is  amplified  to  an  extent  far  beyond  the  limits  to 
which"  sensible  perception  is  confined.     This  subject  is  one  ot 
the  most  perplexing  in  the  whole  compass  of  philosophy ;  for, 
on  the  one  hand,  the  phsenomena  are  so  marvellous  that  they 
cannot  be  believed,  and  yet,  on  the  other,  they  are  of  so  unam- 
biguous and  palpable  a  character,  and  the  witnesses  to  their 
rellity  are  so  numerous,  so  intelUgent,  and  so  high  above  every 
suspicion  of  deceit,  that  it  is  equally  impossible  to  deny  credit 
to  what  is  attested  by  such  ample  and  unexceptionable  evidence. 
« The  third  state,  that  of  Reverie  or  Castle-building,  is  a 
kind  of  waking  dream,  and  does  not  differ  from  dreaming,  ex- 
cept by  the  consciousness  which  accompanies  it.     In  this  state, 
the  mind  abandons  itself  without  a  choice  of  subject,  without 
control  over  the  mental  train,  to  the  involuntary  associations  ot 
imagination.     The  mind  is  thus  occupied  without  being  prop- 
erl/active ;  it  is  active,  at  least,  without  effort.     Young  per- 
sons, women,  the  old,  the  unemployed,  and  the  idle,  are  all  dis- 
posed to  reverie.     There  is  a  pleasure  attached  to  its  illusions, 
which  render  it  as  seductive  as  it  is  dangerous.     The  mmd,  by 
indulgence  in  this  dissipation,  becomes  enervated ;  it  acquires 
the  habit  of  a  pleasing  idleness,  loses  its  activity,  and  at  length 
even  the  power  and  the  desire  of  action." 

laAuence  of  imaffinalioii  on  human  /./a. -"  The  happiness 
and  misery  of  every  individual  of  mankind  depends  almost  ex- 
clusively on  the  particular  character  of  his  habitual  associations, 
and  the  relative  kind  and  intensity  of  his  imagination.  It  is 
much  less  what  wc  actually  are,  and  what  we  actually  possess, 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


453 


•iij 
III 


V 


M 


yi 


than  what  we  imagine  ourselves  to  be  and  have,  that  is  decisive 
of  our  existence  and  fortune."  Apicius  committed  suicide  to 
avoid  starvation,  when  his  fortune  was  reduced  to  somewhere, 
in  English  money,  about  £100,000.  The  Roman  epicure  im- 
agined that  he  could  not  subsist  on  what,  to  men  in  general, 
would  seem  more  than  affluence. 

"  Imagination,  by  the  attractive  or  repulsive  pictures  with 
which,  according  to  our  habits  and  associations,  it  fills  the  frame 
of  our  life,  lends  to  reality  a  magical  charm,  or  despoils  it  of  aU 
its  pleasantness.  The  imaginary  happy  and  the  imaginary 
miserable  are  common  in  the  world,  but  their  happiness  and 
misery  are  not  the  less  real ;  every  thing  depends  on  the  mode 
in  which  they  feel  and  estimate  their  condition.  Fear,  hope, 
the  recollection  of  past  pleasures,  the  torments  of  absence  and 
of  desire,  the  secret  and  almost  resistless  tendency  of  the  mind 
towards  certain  objects,  are  the  effects  of  association  and  imagi- 
nation. At  a  distance,  things  seem  to  us  radiant  with  a  celes- 
tial beauty,  or  in  the  lurid  aspect  of  deformity.  Of  a  truth,  in 
either  case,  we  are  equally  wrong.  "VVlien  the  event  which  we 
dread,  or  which  we  desire,  takes  place,  when  we  obtain,  or 
when  there  is  forced  upon  us,  an  object  environed  with  a  thou- 
sand hopes,  or  with  a  thousand  fears,  we  soon  discover  that  we 
have  expected  too  much  or  too  little  ;»we  thought  it  by  antici- 
pation infinite  in  good  or  evil,  and  we  find  it  in  reality  not  only 
finite,  but  contracted.  *With  the  exception,'  says  Rousseau, 
*  of  the  self-existent  Being,  there  is  nothing  beautiful,  but  that 
which  is  not.*  In  the  crisis,  whether  of  enjoyment  or  suffering, 
happiness  is  not  so  much  happiness,  nor  misery  so  much  misery, 
as  we  had  anticipated.  In  the  past,  thanks  to  a  beneficent 
Creator,  our  joys  reappear  as  purer  and  more  brilhant  than 
they  had  been  actually  experienced  ;  and  sorrow  loses  not  only 
its  bitterness,  but  is  changed  even  into  a  source  of  pleasing  rec- 
ollection. In  early  youth,  the  present  and  the  future  are  dis- 
played in  a  factitious  magnificence ;  for  at  this  period  of  life, 
imagination  is  in  its  spring  and  freshness,  and  a  cruel  experience 
has  not  yet  exorcised  its  brilliant  enchantments.  Hence  the 
fair  picture  of  a  golden  age,  which  all  nations  concur  in  placing 


fi 


*s 


Ill 


454 


I, 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


in  the  past ;  it  is  the  dream  of  the  youth  of  mankind."  In  old 
age,  again,  where  the  future  is  dark  and  short,  imagination  carries 
us  back  to  the  reenjoyment  of  a  past  existence.  "  The  young," 
says  Aristotle,  "  live  forwards  in  hope,  the  old  live  backwards  in 
memory." 

From  all  this,  however,  it  appears,  that  the  present  is  the  only 
time  in  which  we  never  actually  live ;  we  Uve  either  in  the 
future,  or  in  the  past.  So  long  as  we  have  a  future  to  antici- 
pate, we  contemn  the  present ;  and  when  we  can  no  longer  look 
forward  to  a  future,  we  revert  and  spend  our  existence  in  the 
past. 

Organs  of  Imagination.  —  I  shall  terminate  the  consideration 
of  Imagination  Proper  by  a  speculation  concerning  the  organ 
which  it  employs  in  the  representations  of  sensible  objects.  The 
organ  which  it  thus  employs  seems  to  be  no  other  than  the 
organs  themselves  of  Sense,  on  which  the  original  impressions 
were  made,  and  through  which  they  were  originally  perceived. 
Experience  has  shown,  that  Imagination  depends  on  no  one 
part  of  the  cerebral  apparatus  exclusively.  There  is  no  portion 
of  the  brain  which  has  not  been  destroyed  by  molUfication,  or 
induration,  or  external  lesion,  without  the  general  faculty  of 
Representation  being  injured.  But  experience* equally  proves, 
that  the  intracranial  poi^ion  of  any  external  organ  of  sense  can- 
not be  destroyed,  without  a  certain  partial  abolition  of  the  Imag- 
ination Proper.  For  example,  there  are  many  cases  recorded 
by  medical  observers,  of  persons  losing  their  sight,  who  have 
also  lost  the  faculty  of  representing  the  images  of  visible  objects. 
They  no  longer  call  up  such  objects  by  reminiscence,  they  no 
longer  dream  of  them.  Now  in  these  cases,  it  is  found  that  not 
merely  the  external  instrument  of  sight,  —  the  eye,  —  has  been 
disorganized,  but  that  the  disorganization  has  extended  to  those 
parts  of  the  brain  which  constitute  the  internal  instrument  of 
this  sense,  that  is,  the  optic  nerves  and  thalami.  If  the  latter, 
—  the  real  organ  of  vision, — remain  sound,  the  eye  alone 
being  destroyed,  tlie  imagination  of  colors  and  forms  remains 
as  vigorous  as  when  vision  was  entire.  Similar  cases  are  re- 
corded in  regard  to  the  deaf.   These  facts,  added  to  the  observa- 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 


455 


tion  of  the  mternal  phaenomena  which  take  place  during  our 
acts  of  representation,  make  it,  I  think,  more  than  probable 
that  there  are  as  many  organs  of  Imagination  as  there 
are  organs  of  Sense.  Thus  I  have  a  distinct  conscious- 
ness, that,  in  the  internal  representation  of  visible  objects,  the 
same  organs  are  at  work  which  operate  in  the  external  percep- 
tion of  these  ;  and  the  same  holds  good  in  an  imagination  of  the 
objects  of  Hearing,  Touch,  Taste,  and  Smell. 

But  not  only  sensible  perceptions,  voluntary/  motions  likewise, 
are  imitated  in  and  by  the  imagination.  I  can,  in  imagination, 
represent  the  action  of  speech,  the  play  of  the  muscles  of  the 
countenance,  the  movement  of  the  limbs ;  and  when  I  do  this,  I 
feel  clearly  that  I  awaken  a  kind  of  tension  in  the  same  nerves 
through  which,  by  an  act  of  will,  I  can  determine  an  overt  and 
voluntary  motion  of  the  muscles  ;  nay,  when  the  play  of  imagi- 
nation is  very  lively,  this  external  movement  is  actually  deter- 
mined. Thus  we  frequently  see  the  countenances  of  persons 
.  under  the  influence  of  imagination  undergo  various  chano-es  ; 
ihey  gesticulate  with  their  hands,  they  talk  to  themselves,  and 
all  this  is  in  consequence  only  of  the  imagined  activity  going  out 
into  real  activity.  .  I  should,  therefore,  be  disposed  to  conclude, 
that,  as  in  Perception  the  living  organs  of  sense  ai'e  from  with- 
out determined  to  energy,  so  in  Imagination  they  are  determined 
to  a  similar  energy  by  an  influence  from  within. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE  ELABORATIVE  FACULTY.  -  CLASSIFICATION.  -  ABSTRAC- 
TION AND  GENERALIZATION. -NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEP- 
TUALISM. 

The  faculties  with  which  we   have  been  hitherto  engaged 
may  be  regarded  as  subsidiary  to  that  which  we  are  now  about 
to  consider.     This,  to  which  I  gave  the  name  of  the  Elabora- 
tive  Facuhy,  — the  Faculty  of  Relations,  —  or  Comparison,— 
constitutes  what  is  properly  denominated  Thought.     It  supposes 
always  at  least  two  terms,  and  its  act  results  in  a  judgment, 
that  is,  an  affirmation  or  negation  of  one  of  these  terms  of  the 
other.     You  will  recollect  that,  when  treating  of  Consciousness 
in  general,  I  stated  to  you,  that  consciousness  necessarily  involves 
a  judgment;  and  as  every  act  of  mind  is  an  act  of  conscious- 
ness,  every  act  of  mind,  consequently,  involves  a  judgment.     A 
consciousness  is  necessarily  the  consciousness  of  a  deteiminate 
something ;  and  we  cannot  be  conscious  of  any  thing  without 
virtually  affirming  its  existence,  that  is,  judging  it  to  be.      Con- 
sciousness is  thus  primarily  a  judgment  or  affirmation  of  exist- 
ence. 

Again,  consciousness  is  not  merely  the  affirmation  of  naked 
existence,  but  the  affirmation  of  a  certain  qualijied  or  determinate 
existence.  We  are  conscious  that  we  exist,  only  in  and  through 
our  consciousness  that  we  exist  in  this  or  that  particular  state, 

that  we  are  so  or  so  affected,  —  so  or  so  active ;  and  we  are 

only  conscious  of  this  or  that  particular  state  of  existence,  inas- 
much as  we  discriminate  it  as  diffi^rent  from  some  other  state  of 
existence,  of  which  we  have  been  previously  conscious  and  are 
now  reminiscent ;  but  such  a  discrimination  sui)poses,  in  con- 
sciousness, the  affirmation  of  the  existence  of  one  state  of  a 
(456) 


THE  ELABORATIVE  FACULTY. 


457 


specific  character,  and  the  negation  of  another.     On  this  ground 
it  was  that  I  maintained,  that  consciousness  necessarily  involves, 
besides  recollection,  or  rather  a  certain  continuity  of  represen- 
tation, also  judgment  or  comparison  ;  and,  consequently,  that,  so 
far  from  comparison  or  judgment  being  a  process  always  subse- 
quent to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  through  perception  and 
self-consciousness,  it  is  involved  as  a  condition  of  the  acquisitive 
process  itself.     In  point  of  fact,  the  various  processes  of  Acqui- 
sition (Apprehension),  Representation,  and  Comparison,  are  all 
mutually  dependent.     Comparison  cannot  judge  without  some- 
thing to  compare  ;  we  cannot  originally  acquire,  —  apprehend, 
we  cannot  subsequently  represent  our  knowledge,  without  in 
cither  act  attributing  existence,  and  a  certain  kind  of  existence, 
both  to  the  object  known  and  to  the  subject  knowing,  —  that  is, 
without  enouncing  certain  judgments  and  performing  certain 
acts  of  comparison ;  I  say,  without  performing  certain  acts  of 
comparison,  for  taking  the  mere  affirmation  that  a  thing  is,-^ 
this  is  tantamount  to  a  negation  that  it  is  not,  and  necessarUy 
supposes  a  comparLson,  —  a  collation,  between  existence  and 
non-existence. 

Comparison  supposed  in  every  act  of  Thought.  —  What  I 
have  now  said  may  perhaps  contribute  to  prepare  you  for  what 
I  am  hereafter  to  say  of  the  faculty  or  elementary  process  of 
Comparison,  — a  faculty  which,  in  the  analysis  of  philosophers, 
is  exhibited  only  in  part ;  and  even  that  part  is  not  preserved 
in  its  integrity.     They  take  into  account  only  a  fragment  of  the 
process,  and  that  fragment  they  again  break  down  into  a  plural- 
ity of  faculties.     In  opposition  to  the  views  hitherto  promul- 
gated in  regard  to  Comparison,  I  will  show,  that  this  faculty  is 
at  work  in  every,  the  simplest,  act  of  mind ;  and  that,  from  the 
primary  affirmation  of  existence  in  an  original  act  of  conscious- 
ness, to  the  judgment  contained  in  the  conclusion  of  an  act  of 
reasonmg,  every  operation  is  only  an  evolution  of  the  same  ele- 
mentary process,  —that  there  is  a  difference  hi  the  complexity, 
none  in  the  nature,  of  the  act ;  in  short,  that  the  various  pro- 
ducts of  Analysis  and  Synthesis,  of  Abstraction  and  General- 
ization, are  all  merely  the  results  of  Comparison,  and  that  the 

39 


458 


THE  ELABORATIVE  FACULTY. 


operations  of  Conception  or  Simple  Apprehension,  of  Judg- 
ment, and  of  Reasoning,  are  all  only  acts  of  Comparison  in 
various  applications  and  degrees. 

Wliat  I  have,  therefore,  to  prove  is,  in  the  first  place,  that 
Comparison  is  supposed  in  every,  the  simplest,  act  of  knowl- 
edge ;  in  the  second,  that  our  factitiously  simple,  our  factitiously 
complex,  our  abstract,  and  our  generalized  notions  are  all 
merely  so  many  products  of  Comparison ;  in  the  third,  that 
Judgment,  and,  in  the  fourth,  that  Reasoning,  is  identical  with 
Comparison.  In  doing  this,  I  shall  not  formally  distribute  the 
discussion  into  these  heads,  but  shall  include  the  proof  of  what 
I  have  now  advanced,  while  tracing  Comparison  from  its  sim- 
plest to  its  most  complex  operations. 

Primary  acts  of  Comparison.  —  The  first  or  most  elementary 
act  of  Comparison,  or  of  that  mental  process  in  which  the 
relation  of  two  terms  is  recognized  and  affirmed,  is  the  judg- 
ment virtually  pronounced,  in  an  act  of  Perception,  of  the 
Non-ego,  or,  in  an  act  of  Self-consciousness,  of  the  Ego.  Tliis 
is  the  primary  afiirmation  of  existence.  The  notion  of  exist- 
ence is  one  native  to  the  mind.  It  is  the  primary  condition  of 
thought.  The  first  act  of  experience  awoke  it,  and  the  first  act 
of  consciousness  was  a  subsumption  of  that  of  which  we  were 
conscious  under  this  notion  ;  in  other  words,  the  first  act  of 
consciousness  was  an  afiinnation  of  the  existence  of  somethinji:. 
The  first  or  simplest  act  of  Comparison  is  thus  the  discrimina- 
tion of  existence  from  non-existence ;  and  the  first  or  simplest 
judgment  is  the  afiirmation  of  existence,  in  other  words,  the 
denial  of  non-existence. 

But  the  something  of  which  we  are  conscious,  and  of  which 
we  predicate  existence,  in  the  primary  judgment,  is  twofold,  — 
the  Ego  and  the  Non-ego.  "VVe  are  conscious  of  both,  and  afiirra 
existence  of  both.  But  we  do  more  ;  we  do  not  merely  affirm 
the  existence  of  each  out  of  relation  to  the  other,  but,  in  affirm- 
ing their  existence,  we  affirm  their  existence  in  duality,  in  dif- 
ference, in  mutual  contrast ;  that  is,  we  not  only  affirm  the  Ego 
to  exist,  but  deny  it  existuig  as  the  Non-ego ;  we  not  only  affirm 
the  Non-ego  to  exist,  but  deny  it  existing  as  the  Ego.     The  sec- 


CLASSIFICATION  AND  ABSTRACTION.       '  459 

end  act  of  Comparison  is  thus  the  discrimination  of  the  E^o  and 
he  Non-ego;  and  the  second  judgment  is  the  affinnatio^  ^^at 
each  is  not  the  other.  ' 

niti^n'  T.t  ^"t •'?  "  '^''  ^''  '^  Comparison,  is  in  the  reco.- 
nition  of  the  multiplicity  of  the  coexistent  or  successive  ph^. 

nomena,  presented  either  to  Percention  or  Q.]^  • 

nnri  ih^    •  A  .  J^<^rcepnon  or  {5>elf-consciousness, 

krity       •'     °"""'  '"  "^^^'^  *°  *'''■  '■'^^emblance  or  dissimi- 
Jhofourlk   is  the  Comparison  of  the  ph=enomena  with  tj.e 
ofthe.,e  pha^nomena  ,„to  difTerent  bundles,  as  the  attributes  of 

tutsThe". -T-    '%''"'  -^^^-^^^  ^^-'-^''-'^  «■»*-  -  i 
Tpo^ers  °"  "''''"''■'  '"  ''"'  '""'*•'  <1'^''-'- 

The  ff(h  act  of  Comparison  is  the  collation  of  successive 
Pho^nomena  under  the  native  notion  of  Causality,  Id  he 
affinnauon  or  negation  of  their  mutual  relation  as'^^ause  and 

of  p"r^'"'""-  "1  "'  "-^  <^'»"P-rison.  -  So  far,  the  process 

h  tlferrr  ^  fr'^**  --'^  ^y  o-^J-tlve  conditions 
hUherto,  ,t  has  followed  only  in  the  footsteps  of  nature.  In 
those,  again,  we  are  now  to  consider,  the  procedure  is,  in  a  cer- 
tain sort,  art.tlcial,  and  determined  by  the  necessities  ofL 
thinkmg  subject  uself  The  mind  is  finite  in  its  powers  of  com- 
prehension;  the  objects,  on  the  contrary,  which'are  presentrd 

in  tbf   Vr  '<•'       '  '1-Proportion  to  be  equahzed?     How 

T"  T.  ^  ^  1  """'■'  ^'  ■''■''""'"  '^°™  '°  *•«=  fi"it"de  of 
man  This  is  done  by  means  of  Classification.  Objects 
though  mtinue  ,n  numbei,  are  not  infinite  in  variety  ;  they  a7e 
all,  in  a  certain  sort,  repetitions  of  the  same  common  quaUtieT 
a.ul  he  mmd,  though  lost  in  the  multitude  of  partic„A_t- 
dviduals  _  can  easily  gra.sp  the  classes  into  which  their  resem- 
bhng^ttn  utes  enable  us  to  assort  these.     This  whole  prtcl 

In  the  first  place,  this  may  be  shown  in  regard  to  the  forma- 


460 


CLASSIFICATION  AND  ABSTRACTION. 


\ 


CLASSIFICATION  AND  ABSTRACTION. 


461 


tion  of  Complex  notions,  witli  which,  as  the  simplest  species  of 
classification,  we  may  commence.  By  Complex  or  Collective 
notions,  I  mean  merely  the  notion  of  a  class  formed  by  the  rep- 
etition of  the  same  constituent  notion.  Such  are  the  notions 
of  an  army,  a  forest,  a  town,  a  number.  These  are  names  of 
classes,  formed  by  the  repetition  of  the  notion  of  a  soldier,  of  a 
tree,  of  a  house,  of  a  unit.  You  are  not  to  confound,  as  has 
sometimes  been  done,  the  notion  of  an  army,  a  forest,  a  toivn,  a 
number,  with  the  notions  of  army,  forest,  town,  and  number; 
the  former,  as  I  have  said,  are  complex  or  collective,  the  latter 
are  general  or  universal  notions. 

It  is  evident  that  a  Collective  notion  is  the  result  of  Compari- 
son. The  repetition  of  the  same  constituent  notion  supposes 
that  these  notions  were  compared,  their  identity  or  absolute 
similarity  afRrmed. 

How  language  aids  Classification.  —  In  the  whole  process  of 
classification,  the  mind  is  in  a  gi-eat  measure  dependent  upon 
language  for  its  success ;  and  in  this,  the  simplest  of  the  acts 
of  classification,  it  may  be  proper  to  show  how  language  affords 
to  mind  the  assistance  it  requires.     Our  complex  notions  being 
foruKMl  by  the  repetition  of  the  same  notion,  it  is  evident  that 
the  difficulty  we  can  experience  in  forming  an  adequate  concep- 
tion of  a  class  of  identical  constituents,  will  be  determined  by 
the  difficulty  we  have  in  conceiving  a  multitude.      "  But  the 
comprehension  of  the  mind,"  [says  Degerando,]  "  is  feeble  and 
limited ;  it  can  embrace  at  once  but  a  small  number  of  objects. 
It  would  thus  seem  that  an  obstacle  is  raised  to  the  extension 
of  our  complex  ideas  at  the  very  outset  of  our  combinations. 
But  here  language  interposes,  and  supplies  the  mind  with  the 
force  of  which  it  is  naturally  destitute."     We  have  formerly 
seen  that  the  mind  cannot,  in  one  act,  embrace  more  than  five  or 
six,  at  the  utmost  seven,  several  units.     How  then  does  it  pro- 
ceed?    "When,  by  a  first  combination,  we  have  obtained  a 
complement  of  notions  as  complex  as  the  mind  can  embrace, 
we  give  this  complement  a  name.     This  being  done,  we  regard 
the  assemblage  of  units  thus  bound  up  under  a  collective  name 
as  itself  a  unit,  and  proceed,  by  a  second  combination,  to  accu- 


i 


mulate  these  into  a  new  complement  of  the  same  extent.     To 
this  new  complement  we  give  another  name ;  and  then  again 
p-oceed  to  perform,  on  this  more  complex  unit,  the  same  opera- 
tion we  had  performed  on  the  first ;  and  so  we  may  go  on  rising 
from  complement  to  complement  to  an  indefinite  extent.     Thu^ 
a  merchant,  having  received  a  large  unknown  sum  of  money 
in  crowns,  counts  out  the  pieces  by  fives,  and  having  done  this 
till  he  has  reached  twenty,  he  lays  them  together  in  a  heap ; 
around  these,  he  assembles  similar  piles  of  coin,  tiU  they  amount, 
let  us  say,  to  twenty ;  and  he  then  puts  the  whole  four  hundred 
into  a  bag.     In  this  manner  he  proceeds,  until  he  fills  a  number 
of  bags,  and  placing  the  whole  in  his  coffers,  he  wiU  have  a 
complex  or  collective  notion  of  the  quantity  of  crowns  which 
he  has  received."     It  is  on  this  principle  that  aritlmietic  pro- 
ceeds,—tens,  hundreds,  thousands,  myriads,  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands, millions,  etc.,  are  aU  so  many  factitious  units,  which  ena- 
ble us  to  form  notions,  vague  indeed,  of  what  otherwise  we 
could  have  obtained  no  conception  at  all.     So  much  for  com- 
plex or  collective  notions,  formed  without  decomposition,  —  a 
process  which  I  now  go  on  to  consider. 

Two  modes  of  decomposiiig  thought.  —  Our  thought,  —  that 
is,  the  sum  total  of  the  perceptions  and  representations  which 
occupy  us  at  any  given  moment,  is  always,  as  I  have  frequently 
observed,  compound.     The  composite  objects  of  thoughts  may 
be  decomposed  in  two  ways,  and  for  the  sake  of  two  different 
interests.     In  the  first  place,  we  may  decompose  in  order  that 
we  may  recombine,  influenced  by  the  mere  pleasure  which  this 
plastic  operation  affords  us.     This  is  poetical  analysis  and  syn- 
thesis.    On  this  process  it  is  needless  to  dweU.     It  is  evidently 
the  work  of  comparison.     For  example,  the  minotaur,  6r  chi- 
mera, or  centaur,  or  gryphon  (hippogryph),  or  any  other  poet- 
ical combination  of  different   animals,  could  only  have   been 
effected  by  an  act  in  which  the  representations  of  these  animals 
were  compared,  and  in  which  certain  parts  of  one  were  affirmed, 
compatible  with  certain  parts  of  another.     How,  again,  is  the 
imagination  of  all  ideal  beauty  or  perfection  formed  ?     Simply 
by  comparing  the  various  beauties  or  excellences  of  which  we 

39* 


462 


CLASSIFICATION  AND  ABSTRACTION. 


\1 


CLASSIFICATION  AND  ABSTRACTION. 


463 


have  had  actual  experience,  and  thus  being  enabled  to  pro- 
nounce in  regard  to  their  common  and  essential  quality. 

In  the  second  place,  we  may  decompose  in  the  interest  of 
science ;  and  as  the  poetical  decomposition  was  principally  ac- 
complished by  a  separation  of  integral  parts,  so  this  is  princi- 
pally accomplished  by  an  abstraction  of  constituent  qualities. 
On  this  process  it  is  necessaiy  to  be  more  particular. 

Abstraction  through  the  senses.  —  Suppose  an  unknown  body 
is  presented  to  my  senses,  and  that  it  is  capable  of  affecting  each 
of  these  in  a  certain  manner.  "  As  furnished  with  fivx'  different 
organs,"  [says  Laromiguiere,]  "  each  of  which  serves  to  intro- 
duce a  certain  class  of  perceptions  and  representations  into  the 
mind,  we  naturally  distribute  all  sensible  objects  into  five  species 
of  qualities.  The  human  body,  if  we  may  so  speak,  is  thus  itself 
a  kind  of  abstractive  machine.  The  senses  cannot  but  abstract. 
If  the  eye  did  not  abstract  colors,  it  would  see  them  confounded 
with  odors  and  with  tastes,  and  odors  and  tastes  would  necessa- 
rily become  objects  of  sight." 

"  The  abstraction  of  the  senses  is  thus  an  operation  the  most 
natural ;  it  is  even  impossible  for  us  not  to  perform  it.  Let  us 
now  see  whether  abstraction  by  the  mind  be  more  arduous  than 
that  of  the  senses."  We  have  formerly  found  that  the  compre- 
hension of  the  mind  is  extremely  limited  ;  that  it  can  only  take 
cognizance  of  one  object  at  a  time,  if  that  be  known  with  full 
intensity  ;  and  that  it  can  accord  a  simultaneous  attention  to  a 
very  small  plurality  of  objects,  and  even  that  imperfectly.  Thus 
it  is  that  attention  fixed  on  one  object  is  tantamount  to  a  with- 
drawal,— ^to  an  abstraction,  of  consciousness  from  every  other. 
Abstraction  is  thus  not  a  positive  act  of  mind,  as  it  is  often 
erroneously  described  in  philosophical  treatises  ;  —  it  is  merely 
a  negation  to  one  or  more  objects,  in  consequence  of  its  concen- 
tration on  another. 

Tliis  being  the  case.  Abstraction  is  not  only  an  easy  and 
natural,  but  a  necessary  result.  "  In  studying  an  object,"  [con- 
tinues Laromiguiere,]  "  we  neither  exert  all  our  faculties  at 
once,  nor  at  once  api)ly  them  to  all  the  qualities  of  an  object. 
We  know  from  experience,  thi\t  the  effect  of  such  a  mode  of 


procedure  is  confusion.  On  the  contrary,  we  converge  our  at- 
tention on  one  alone  of  its  qualities,  —  nay,  contemplate  this 
quality  only  in  a  single  point  of  view,  and  retain  it  in  that  aspect 
until  we  have  obtained  a  full  and  accurate  conception  of  it. 
The  human  mind  proceeds  from  the  confused  and  complex  to 
the  distinct  and  constituent,  always  separating,  always  dividing, 
always  simplifying ;  and  this  is  the  only  mode  in  which,  from 
the  weakness  of  our  faculties,  we  are  able  to  apprehend  and  to 
represent  with  correctness." 

"  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  after  having  decomposed  every  thing, 
we  must,  as  it  were,  return  on  our  steps  by  recomposing  every 
thing  anew ;  for  unless  we  do  so,  our  knowledge  would  not  be 
conformable  to  the  reality  and  relations  of  nature.  The  simple 
quahties  of  body  have  not  each  a  proper  and  independent  exist- 
ence ;  the  ultimate  faculties  of  mind  are  not  so  many  distinct 
and  independent  existences.  On  either  side,  there  is  a  being 
one  and  the  same  ;  on  that  side,  at  once  extended,  sohd,  colored, 
etc. ;  on  this,  at  once  capable  of  thought,  feeUng,  desire,  etc." 

"  But  although  all,  or  the  greater  number  of,  our  cognitions 
comprehend  different  fasciculi  of  notions,  it  is  necessary  to  com- 
mence by  the  acquisition  of  these  notions  one  by  one,  through 
a  successive  application  of  our  attention  to  the  different  attri- 
butes of  objects.  The  abstraction  of  the  intellect  is  thus  as 
natural  as  that  of  the  senses.  It  is  even  imposed  upon  us  by 
the  very  constitution  of  our  mind." 

"  I  am  aware  that  the  expression,  abstraction  of  the  senses,  is 
incorrect ;  for  it  is  the  mind  always  which  acts,  be  it  through 
the  medium  of  the  senses.  The  impropriety  of  the  expression 
is  not,  however,  one  which  is  in  danger  of  leading  into  error ; 
and  it  serves  to  point  out  the  important  fact,  that  Abstraction  is 
not  always  performed  in  the  same  manner.  In  Perception,  — 
in  the  presence  of  physical  objects,  the  intellect  abstracts  colors 
by  the  eyes,  sounds  by  the  ear,  etc.  In  Representation,  and 
when  the  external  object  is  absent,  the  mind  operates  on  its 
reproduced  cognitions,  and  looks  at  them  successively  in  their 
different  points  of  view." 

"  However  abstraction   be   performed,  the  result  is  notions 


464 


ABSTRACTION  AND  GENERALIZATION. 


ABSTRACTION  AND  GENERALIZATION. 


465 


which  are  simple,  or  which  approximate  to  simplicity ;  and  if 
we  apply  it  with  consistency  and  order  to  the  different  qualities 
of  objects,  we  shall  attain  at  length  to  i\  knowledge  of  these 
qualities  and  of  their  mutual  dependencies  ;  that  is,  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  objects  as  they  really  are.  In  this  case,  abstraction  be- 
comes analysis,  which  is  the  method  to  which  we  owe  all  our 


cognitions. 


»» 


The  process  of  abstraction  is  familiar  to  the  most  uncultivated 
minds  ;  and  its  uses  are  shown  equally  in  the  mechanical  arts  as 
in  the  philosophical  sciences.  "A  carpenter,"  says  Kames, 
speaking  of  the  great  utility  of  abstraction,  "  considers  a  log  of 
wood  with  regard  to  hardness,  firmness,  color,  and  texture ;  a 
philosopher,  neglecting  these  properties,  makes  the  log  undergo 
a  chemical  analysis,  and  examines  its  taste,  its  smell,  and  com- 
ponent principles  ;  the  geometrician  confines  his  reasoning  to 
the  figure,  the  length,  breadth,  and  thickness  ;  in  general,  every 
artist,  abstracting  from  all  other  properties,  confines  his  observa- 
tions to  those  which  have  a  more  immediate  connection  with  his 
profession.'* 

But  is  Abstraction,  or  rather,  is  exclusive  attention,  the  work 
of  Comparison  ?  This  is  evident.  The  application  of  attention 
to  a  particular  object,  or  quality  of  an  object,  supposes  an  act  of 
will,  —  a  choice  or  preference,  and  this  again  supposes  Com- 
parison and  Judgment.  But  this  may  be  made  more  manifest 
from  a  view  of  the  act  of  Generalization,  on  wliich  we  are  about 
to  enter. 

Generalization.  Abstract  individual  ideas.  —  The  notion  of 
the  figure  of  the  desk  before  me  is  an  abstract  idea,  —  an  idea 
that  makes  i)art  of  the  total  notion  of  that  body,  and  on  which  I 
have  concentrated  my  attention,  in  order  to  consider  it  exclu- 
sively. This  idea  is  abstract,  but  it  is  at  the  same  time  individ- 
ual ;  it  represents  the  figure  of  this  particular  desk,  and  not  the 
figure  of  any  other  body.  But  had  we  only  individual  abstract 
notions,  what  would  be  our  knowledfje  ?  We  should  be  cojr- 
nizant  only  of  qualities  viewed  apart  from  their  subjects  (and 
of  separate  phenomena  there  exists  none  in  nature) ;  and  as 
these  qualities  are  also  separate  from  each  other,  we  should 


'i 


have  no  knowledge  of  their  mutual  relations.     We  should  also 
be  overwhelmed  with  their  number. 

Abstract    General  notions.  ~  It  is  necessary,  theref3re,  that 
we   should   form   Abstract    General   notions.      This    is    done 
when,    comparing   a   number   of    objects,  we   seize    on   their 
resemblances  ;    when  we  concentrate   our   attention   on  these 
points   of  similarity,  thus   abstracting   the   mind   from  a  con- 
sideration  of  their  differences ;    and  when  we   give   a  name 
to  our  notion  of  that  circumstance   in  which  they  all  agree. 
The   General  Notion  is   thus   one  which   makes   us   know   a 
quality,    property,    power,    action,    relation;     in    short,    any 
point  of  view,  under  which  we  recognize  a  plurality  of  objects 
as  a  unity.     It  makes  us  aware  of  a  quality,  a  point  of  view, 
common  to  many  things.     It  is  a  notion  of  resemblance  ;  hence' 
the  reason  why  general  names  or  terms,  the  signs  of  general 
notions,  have  been  called  terms  of  resemblance  {termini  similitu- 
dinis).     In  this  process  of  generalization,  we  do  not  stop  short 
at  a  first  generalization.     By  a  first  generalization,  we  have 
obtained  a  number  of  classes  of  resembhng  individuals.     But 
these  classes  we  can  compare  together,  observe  their  similarities, 
abstract  from  their  differences,  and  bestow  on  their  common  cir- 
cumstance a  common  name.     On   these  second  classes  we  can 
again  perform  the  same  operation,  and  thus  ascending  the  scale 
of  general  notions,  throwing  out  of  view  always  a  greater  num- 
ber of  differences,  and  seizing  always  on  fewer  similarities  in 
the  formation  of  our  classes,  we  arrive  at  length  at  the  hmit  of 
our  ascent  in  the  notion  of  being  or  existence.     Thus  placed 
on  the  summit  of  the  scale  of  classes,  we  descend  by  a  process 
the  reverse  of  that  by  which  we  have  ascended  ;  we  divide  and 
subdivide  the  classes,  by  introducing  always  more  and  more 
characters,   and    laying  always  fewer  differences   aside;    the 
notions  become  more  and  more  composite,  until  we  at  length 
arrive  at  the  individual. 

Twofold  quantity  in  notions.  —  I  may  here  notice,  that  there 
is  a  twofold  kind  of  quantity  to  be  considered  in  notions.  It  is 
evident,  that,  in  proportion  as  the  class  is  high,  it  will,  in  the 
first  place,  contain  under  it  a  greater  number  of  classes,  and,  in 
the  second,  will  include  the  smallest  complement  of  attributes. 


466 


ABSTRACTION  AND  GENERALIZATION. 


Thus,  being  or  existence  contains  under  it  every  class ;  and  yet, 
when  we  say  that  a  thing  exists,  we  say  the  very  least  of  it 
that  is  possible.  On  the  other  hand,  an  individual,  though  it 
contain  nothing  but  itself,  involves  the  largest  amount  of  predi- 
cation. For  example,  when  I  say,  — this  is  Richard,  I  not 
only  affirm  of  the  subject  every  class  from  existence  down  to 
man,  but  likewise  a  number  of  circumstances  proper  to  Richard 
as  an  individual.  Now,  the  former  of  these  quantities,  the 
external,  is  called  the  Extension  of  a  notion  ;  the  latter,  the 
internal  quantity,  is  called  its  Comprehension  or  Intension, 
The  extension  of  a  notion  is,  likewise,  styled  its  circuit,  region, 
domain,  or  sphere,  also  its  breadth.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
comprehension  of  a  notion  is  likewise  called  its  depth.  These 
names  we  owe  to  the  Greek  logicians.  The  internal  and  ex- 
ternal quantities  are  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.  The 
greater  the  Extension,  the  less  the  Comprehension ;  the  greater 
the  Comprehension,  the  less  the  Extension. 

I  have  noticed  the  improper  use  of  the  term  abstraction  b^ 
many  philosopliers,  in  applying  it  to  that  on  which  attention  is 
converged.     This  we  may  indeed  be  said  to  prescind,  but  not 
to  abstract,     Tlius,  let  A,  B,  C,  be  three  qualities  of  an  object. 
We  prescind  A,  in  abstracting  it  from  B  and  C ;  but  we  cannot, 
without  impropriety,  simply  say  that  we  abstract  A.     Thus,  by 
attending  to  one  object  to  the  abstraction  from  all  others,  we,  in 
a  certain  sort,  decompose  or  analyze  the  complex  materials  pre- 
sented to  us  by  Perception  and  Self-consciousness.     This  analy- 
sis or  decomposition  is  of  two  kinds.     In  the  first  place,  by 
concentrating  attention  on  one  integrant  part  of  an  object,  we, 
as  it  were,  withdraw  or  abstract  it  from  the  others.     For  exam- 
ple, we  can  consider  the  head  of  an  animal  to  the  exclusion  of 
the  other  members.     This  may  be  called  Partial  or  Concrete 
Abstraction.     The  process   liere   noticed   has,   however,   been 
overlooked  by  philosophers,  insomucli  that  they  have  opposed 
the  terms  concrete  and  abstract  as  exclusive  contraries.     In  the 
second  place,  we  can  rivet  our  attention  on  some   particular 
mode  of  a  thing,  as  its  smell,  its  color,  its  figure,  its  motion,  its 
size,  etc.,  and  abstract  it  from  the  others.     This  may  be  called 
Modal  Abstraction. 


\l 


I 


ABSTRACTION  AND  GENERALIZATION.  467 

The  Abstraction  we  have  been  now  speaking  of  is  perfomed 
on  individual  objects,  and  is  consequently  particular.     There  is 
nothing  necessarily  connected  with  Generalization  in  Abstrac- 
tion.    Generalization  is  indeed  dependent  on  Abstraction,  which 
It  supposes ;  but  Abstraction  does  not  involve  Generalization.     I 
remark  this,  because  you  will  frequently  find  the  terms  abstract 
and  general  applied  to  notions,  used  as  convertible.     Nothin- 
however,  can  be  more  incorrect.     "A  person,"  says  Mr.  Stewai^' 
who  had  never  seen  but  one  rose,  might  yet  have  been  able  to 
consider  its  color  apart  from  its  other  qualities ;  and,  therefore 
there  may  be  such  a  thing  as  an  idea  which  is  at  once  abstract 
and  particular.     After  having  perceived  this  quality  as  belon- 
ing  to  a  variety  of  individuals,  we  can  consider  it  without  refer- 
ence to  any  of  them,  and  thus  form  the  notion  of  redness  or 
whiteness  in  general,  which  may  be  called  a  general  abstract 
Idea      The  words  abstract  and  general,  therefore,  when  applied 
to  Ideas,  are  as  completely  distinct  from  each  other  as  any  two 
words  to  be  found  in  the  language." 

Generalization  is  the  process  "through  which  we  obtain  what 
are  called  general  or  universal  notions.     A  general  notion  is 
nothing  but  the  abstract  notion  of  a  circumstance  in  which  a 
number  of  individual  objects  are  found  to  agree,  that  is,  to 
resemble  each  other.     In  so  far  as  two  objects  resemble  each 
other,  the  notion  we  have  of  them  is  identical,  and,  therefore 
to  us  the  objects  may  be  considered  as  the  same.     Accordin<.ly 
having  discovered  the  circumstance  in  which  objects  a-ree  °we 
arrange  them  by  this   common   circumstance  into   clLes,  to 
which  we  also  usually  give  a  common  name. 

I  have  explained  how,  in  the  prosecution  of  this  operation 
commencing  with  individual  objects,  we  generalized  these  into 
a  lowest  class.  Having  found  a  number  of  such  lowest  classes 
we  then  compare  these  again  together,  as  we  had  onViually 
compared  individuals  ;  we  abstract  their  points  of  resemblance 
and  by  these  points  generalize  them  into  a  higher  class.  The 
same  process  we  perform  upon  these  higher  classes ;  and  thus 
proceed,  generalizing  class  fiom  classes,  until  we  are  at  last 
arrested  m  the  one  highest  class,  that  of  being.     Thus  we  find 


('  I 


v 


468 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


WMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


Peter,  Paul,  Timothy,  etc.,  all  agree  in  certain  common  attri- 
butes, which  distinguish  them  from  other  animated  beings. 
We  accordingly  collect  them  into  a  class,  which  we  call  man. 
In  like  manner,  out  of  the  other  animated  beings  which  we  ex- 
clude from  man,  we  form  the  classes,  horse,  dog,  ox,  etc.  These 
and  man  form  so  many  lowest  classes  or  species.  But  these 
species,  though  differing  in  certain  respects,  all  agree  in  others. 
Abstracting  from  their  diversities,  we  attend  only  to  their 
resemblances;  and  as  all  manifest  life,  sense,  feeling,  etc., — 
this  resemblance  gives  us  a  class,  on  which  we  bestow  the  name 
animal.  Animal,  or  living  sentient  existences,  we  then  com- 
pare with  lifeless  existences,  and  thus  going  on  abstracting  from 
diiferences,  and  attending  to  resemblances,  we  arrive  at  naked 
or  undifferenced  existence.  Having  reached  the  pinnacle  of 
generalization,  we  may  redescend  the  ladder ;  and  this  is  done 
by  reversing  the  process  through  which  we  ascended.  Instead 
of  attending  to  the  similarities,  and  abstracting  from  the  differ- 
ences, we  now  attend  to  the  differences,  and  abstract  from  the 
similarities.  And  as  the  ascending  process  is  called  Generali- 
zation, this  is  called  Division  or  Determination  ;  —  Division,  be- 
cause the  higher  or  wider  classes  are  cut  down  into  lower  or 
narrower; — Determination,  because  every  quality  added  on  to 
a  class  limits  or  determines  its  extent,  that  is,  api)roximates  it 
more  to  some  individual,  real,  or  determinate  existence. 

Question  between  the  Nominalists  and  the  Conceptualists.  — 
Having  given  you  this  necessary  information  in  regard  to  the  na- 
ture of  Generalization,  I  proceed  to  consider  one  of  the  most  sim- 
ple, and,  at  the  same  time,  one  of  the  most  perplexed,  problems  in 
philosophy,  —  in  regard  to  the  object  of  the  mind,  —  the  object 
of  consciousness,  when  we  employ  a  general  term.  Li  the  ex- 
planation of  the  process  of  generalization,  all  pliilosophers  are 
at  one  ;  the  only  differences  that  arise  among  them  relate  to  the 
point,  —  whether  we  can  form  an  adequate  idea  of  that  which 
is  denoted  by  an  abstract,  or  abstract  and  general  term.  In  the 
discussion  of  this  question,  I  shall  pursue  the  following  order : 
first  of  all,  I  shall  state  the  arguments  of  the  Nominalists,  — 
of  those  who  hold,  that  we  are  unable  to  form  an  idea  corre- 


469 

sponding  to  the  abstract  and  general  tPrm     •    .v. 

I  shaU  state  the  arguments  of  X  r      '  "'"   ^"  '"'"^^  ^'^"^^^ 

who  maintain  that  ^Z\1  ^^"^^P^^^^I^^^ts,  -  of  those 

ry    «^^"^^^owthatth:o;por/p^^^^^^^^^^^^     -  ^^-  ^-^  i 

/  the  whole  controver  V  h^^.  !     "'"'"^  ^^  ^"^'  '-^"^  ^hat 

8ion,  I  avoid  all  mention  nf  th  .  "'™'^«-     I"  this  discus- 

This  i.,  curious  or  n  an  ,    t   "T"'  '"'"''"''  "'  «««'-'- 

wholly  irrelevant  to  th"    est  r:        """^  "'  ''"'''■'  -"^  ^ 
ophers.  '"''''""'  ''^  ''''^  among  modern  philos- 

Nominalism   ha,    -^monTZt       ?    *  ^"*''''"'  ""^  '^"'^'""'^  of 

Conceptualism  has  found  favor  wWlb^   p'^.f  •'^'"«-''  ^^^ 
Throwing  out  of  view  T  '  ^'"^'  ^"'l  ^rown. 

this  question  .r^o  1  .p "  "'"•"'!',"  "'  '""^  "l"-*-'  (»<1 
histor,  of  philo  :  ,^f;j!  ;;^^^^^^  *•>-  an,  other  in  the 

whieh  have  been  Ion.  exp fc'the    '''  ""'  "'  '''^°""'  °^""""' 
philosophers.    Some  maJntatl?     "■'  ''""  ''''''"'^'  ^'""  "'-''« 

mind  is  ratable  of  foZZlnlr'  '«"'"  ^''^^'  ">''^'  '^« 

h, 'he  general  tZ  ""  -contained  under,  or  expressed 

considered  in  itself^  Z  ^  ^t'r'"""  *■.'  "'"'''  "°'-' 
through  the  intenti™,  of  «.e  mi L  ''""'"  "  ^^^'"'''g— '> 
-emhling  notion,  or  J^  71:.:^'^^^^ r"" 
ample,  tlie  term  man      Rn.^  ^'^^^^  ^^^  ex- 

—ponding  torunit;: ::  7t'  ?  -"  "''*'°'''  -  -•^-' 

"manifestly  impossible.  For  as  L!  "  ,  ""  ""  *"™-  '^'"^  '« 
bu.es,  and  as  comr.adietion  ea  ~"1  •"  -^-'-^-^-^  a'tri- 
-  idea  or  notion  adequate  ^::: I^^^C Z:!::^? 
The  class  .an  includes  individuals,  male  J^S^^^t^ 


470 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


black  and  copper-colored,  tall  and  short,  fat  and  thin,  straight 
and  crooked,  whole  and  mutilated,  etc.,  etc. ;  and  the  notion  of 
the  class  must,  therefore,  at  once  represent  all  and  none  of  these. 
It  is,  therefore,  evident,  though  the  absurdity  was  maintained 
by  Locke,  that  we  cannot  accomplish  this  ;  and,  this  being  im- 
possible, we  cannot  represent  to  ourselves  the  class  man  by  any 
equivalent  notion  or  idea.     All  that  we  can  do  is  to  call  up 
some  individual  image,  and  consider  it  as  representing,  though 
inadequately  representing,  the  generahty.     This  we  easily  do, 
for  as  we  can  call  into  imagination  any  individual,  so  we  can 
make  that  individual  image  stand  for  any  or  for  every  other 
which  it  resembles  in  those  essential  points  which  constitute  the 
identity  of  the  class.     This  opinion,  which,  after  Hobbes,  has 
been   maintained,  among  others,  by  Berkeley,  Hume,  Adam 
Smith,  Campbell,  and  Stewart,  appears  to  me  not  only  true,  but 

self-evident. 

No  one  has  stated  the  case  of  the  Nominalists  more  clearly 
than  Bishop  Berkeley,  and  his  whole  argument  is,  as  far  as  it 
goes,  irrefragable.     "It  is  agreed,"  [he  says,]  "on  all  hands, 
that  the  qualities  or  modes  of  things  do  never  really  exist  each 
of  them  apart  by  itself,  and  separated  from  all  others,  but  are 
mixed,  as  it  were,  and  blended  together,  several  in  the  same 
object.     But  we  are  told,  the  mind,  being  able  to  consider  each 
quahty  singly,  or   abstracted  from  those  other  qualities  with 
which  it  is  united,  does  by  that  means  frame  to  itself  abstract 
ideas.     For  example,  there  is  perceived  by  sight  an  object  ex- 
tended,  colored,  and  moved :  this  mixed  or  compound  idea  the 
mind  resolving  into  its  simple,  constituent  parts,  and  viewmg 
each  by  itself,  exclusive  of  the  rest,  does  frame  the  abstract  ideas 
of  extension,  color,  and  motion.     Not  that  it  is  possible  for  color 
or  motion  to  exist  without  extension  ;  but  only  that  the  mind 
can  frame  to  itself,  by  abstraction,  the  idea  of  color  exclusive  of 
extension,  and  of  motion  exclusive  of  both  color  and  extension. 
"  Again,  the  mind  having  observed  that,  in  the  particular  ex- 
tensions perceived  by  sense,  there  is  something  common  and 
alike  in  all,  and  some  other  thmgs  peculiar,  as  this  or  that  figure 
or  magnitude,  which  distinguish  them  one  from  another ;  it  con- 


\ 

1 

I 

"•- 

*"  ^H    * 

;|/ 

'  1 

1 

w  \ 

V 

\  I 

1 

i 
i 

NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


471 


eiders  apart  or  singles  out  by  itself  that  which  is  common,  mak- 
ing thereof  a  most  abstract  idea  of  extension,  which  is  neither 
line,  surface,  nor  solid,  nor  has  any  figure  or  magnitude,  but  is 
an  idea  entirely  prescinded  from  all  these.  So,  likewise,  the 
mind,  by  leaving  out  of  the  particular  colors  perceived  by  sense 
that  which  distinguishes  them  one  from  another,  and  retaining 
that  only  wliich  is  common  to  all,  makes  an  idea  of  color  in 
abstract  which  is  neither  red,  nor  blue,  nor  white,  nor  any  other 
determinate  color.  And  in  like  manner,  by  considering  motion 
abstractedly  not  only  from  the  body  moved,  but  likewise  from 
the  figure  it  describes,  and  all  particular  directions  and  veloci- 
ties, the  abstract  idea  of  motion  is  framed ;  which  equally  cor- 
responds to  all  particular  motions  whatsoever  that  may  be  per- 
ceived by  sense. 

"  Whether  others  have  this  wonderful  faculty  of  abstracting 
their  ideas,  they  best  can  tell :  for  myself  I  find,  indeed,  I  have 
a  faculty  of  imagining,  or  representing  to  myself  the  ideas  of 
those  particular  things  I  have  perceived,  and  of  variously  com- 
pounding and  dividing  them.     I  can  imagine  a  man  with  two 
heads,  or  the  upper  parts  of  a  man  joined  to  the  body  of  a  horse. 
I  can  consider  the  hand,  the  eye,  the  nose,  each  by  itself  ab- 
stracted or  separated   from  the  rest  of  the  body.     But  then 
whatever  hand  or  eye  I  imagine,  it  must  have  some  particular 
shape  and  color.     Likewise,  the  idea  of  man  that  I  frame  to 
myself  must  be  either  of  a  white,  or  a  black,  or  a  tawny,  a 
straight  or  a  crooked,  a  tall  or  a  low,  or  a  middle-sized  man.    I 
cannot  by  any  effort  of  thought  conceive  the  abstract  idea  above 
described.     And  it  is  equally  impossible  for  me  to  form  the 
abstract  idea  of  motion  distinct  from   the   body   moving,  and 
which  is  neither  swift  nor  slow,  curvilinear  nor  rectihnear  ;  and 
the  like  may  be  said  of  all  other  abstract  general  ideas  what- 
soever.    To  be  plain,  I  own  myself  able  to  abstract  in  one 
sense,  as  when  I  consider  some  particular  parts  or  qualities  sep- 
arated from  others,  with  which,  though  they  are  united  in  some 
object,  yet  it  is  possible  they  may  really  exist  without  them. 
But  I  deny  that  I  can  abstra'^-t  one  from  another,  or  conceive 
Bepamtely,  those  qualities  which  it  is  impossible  should  exist  so 


472 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


473 


separated  :  or  that  I  can  frame  a  general  notion  by  abstracting 
from  particulars  in  the  manner  aforesaid.  Which  two  last  are 
the  proper  acceptations  of  abstraction.  And  there  are  grounds 
to  think  most  men  will  acknowledge  themselves  to  be  in  my 
case.  The  generality  of  men,  which  are  simple  and  illiterate, 
never  pretend  to  abstract  notions.  It  is  said  they  are  dilRcult, 
and  not  to  be  attained  without  pains  and  study.  We  may  there- 
fore reasonably  conclude,  that,  if  such  there  be,  they  are  confined 
only  to  the  learned." 

Such  is  the  doctrine  of  Nominalism,  as  asserted  by  Berkeley, 
and  as  subsequently  acquiesced  in  by  the  principal  philosophers 
of  [Great  Britain].  Reid  himself  is,  indeed,  hardly  an  excep- 
tion, for  his  opinion  on  this  point  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  ex- 
tremely vague. 

Conceptualism.  —  The  counter-opinion,  that  of  Conceptual- 
Lsm,  as  it  is  called,  has,  however,  been  supported  by  several 
philosophers  of  distinguished  ability.  Locke  maintains  the 
doctrine  in  its  most  revolting  absurdity,  boldly  admitting  that 
the  general  notion  must  be  realized,  in  spite  of  the  principle  of 
Contradiction.  "  Does  it  not  require,"  he  says,  "  some  pains 
and  skill  to  form  the  general  idea  of  a  triangle  (which  is  yet 
none  of  the  most  abstract,  comprehensive,  and  difficult),  for  it 
must  be  neither  oblique  or  rectangle,  neither  equilateral,  equi- 
crural,  nor  scalenon  ;  but  all  and  none  of  these  at  once.  In 
effect,  it  is  something  imperfect,  that  cannot  exist;  an  idea 
-wherein  some  parts  of  several  different  and  inconsistent  ideas 
are  put  together." 

This  doctrine  was,  however,  too  palpably  absurd  to  obtain 
any  advocates  ;  and  Conceptualism,  could  it  not  find  a  firmer 
basis,  behoved  to  be  abandoned.  Passing  over  Dr.  Reid's 
speculations  on  the  question,  which  are,  as  I  have  said,  wavering 
and  ambiguous,  I  solicit  your  attention  to  the  principal  state- 
ment and  defence  of  Conceptualism  by  Dr.  Brown,  in  whom  the 
doctrine  has  obtained  a  strenuous  advocate.  The  following  is 
the  seventh,  out  of  nine  recapitulations,  he  has  given  us  of  it  in 
his  Lectures.  '•  If  then  the  generalizing  process  be,  first,  the 
perception  or  conception  of  two  or  more  objects  ;  secondly,  the 


\l 


relative  feeling  of  their  resemblance  in  certain  respects ;  thirdly, 
the  designation  of  these  circumstances  of  resemblance  by  aJ 
appropriate  name,  the  doctrine  of  the  Nominalists,  which  in- 
cludes only  two  of  these  stages,  —  the  perception  of  particular 
objects,  and  the  invention  of  general  terms,  —  must  be  false,  as 
excluding  that  relative  suggestion  of  resemblance  in  certain  re- 
spects, which  is  the  second  and  most  important  step  of  the  pro- 
cess  ;  since  it  is  this  intermediate  feeling  alone  that  leads  to  the 
use  of  the  term,  which,  otherwise,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
limit  to  any  set  of  objects." 

This  contains,  in  fact,  both  the  whole  of  his  own  doctrine,  and 
the  whole  ground  of  his  rejection  of  that  of  the  Nominahsts. 
Now,  upon  this,  I  would,  first  of  all,  say,  in  general,  that  what 
m  It  IS  true  is  not  new.     But  I  hold  it  idle  to  prove,  that  his 
doctrine  is  old  and  common,  and  to  trace  it  to  authors  with 
whom  Brown  has  shown  his  acquaintance,  by  repeatedly  quot- 
mg  them  in  his  Lectures ;  it  is  enough  to  show  that  it  is  erroneous. 
The  first  point  I  shall  consider  is  his  confutation  of  the  Nomi- 
nalists.    In  the  passage  I  have  just  adduced,  and  in  ten  others, 
he  charges  the  Nominahsts  with  excluding  "  the  relative  sug- 
gestion of  resemblance  in  certain  respects,  which  is  the  second 
and  most  important  step  in  the  process."     This,  I  admit,  is  a 
weighty  accusation,  and  I  admit  at  once  that  if  it  do  not  prove 
that  his  own  doctrine  is  right,  it  would  at  least  demonstrate 
theirs  to  be  sublimely  wrong.     But  is  the  charge  weU  founded  ? 
Let  us  see  whether  the  Nominalists,  as  he  assures  us,  do  really 
exclude  the  apprehension  of  resemblance  in  certain  respects,  as 
one   step  in  their  doctrine  of  generalization.     I   turn  first  to 
Hobbes  as  the  real  father  of  this  opinion,  —  to  him,  as  Leibnitz 
truly  says,    '' nominalibas  ipsis  nominalioremr     The  classical 
place  of  this  philosopher  on  the  subject  is  the  fourth  chapter  of 
the  Leviathan;  and  there  we   have   the  following  passage  — 
^*  One  universal  name  is  imposed  on  many  things  for  their  simil- 
itnde  in  some  quality  or  other  accident ;  and  whereas  a  proper 
name  bringeth  to  mind  one  thing  only,  universals  recall  any  one 
of  those  many."     There  are  other  passages  to  the  same  effect 
in  Hobbes,  but  I  look  no  further. 

40* 


474 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


475 


The  second  great  Nominalist  is  Berkeley ;  [from  whom,]  out 
of  many  similar  passages,  I  select  the  two  following.  In  both, 
he  is  stating  his  own  doctrine  of  Nominalism.  In  the  Introduc- 
tion, sect.  22 :  "  To  discern  the  agreements  or  disagreements  that 
are  between  my  ideas,  to  see  what  ideas  are  included  in  any 
compound  idea,  etc."  In  the  Minute  Philosopher,  sect.  7  :  "  But 
may  not  words  become  general  by  being  made  to  stand  indis- 
criminately for  all  particular  ideas,  which,  from  a  mutual  resem- 
blance, belong  to  the  same  kind,  without  the  intervention  of  any 
abstract  general  idea  ?  " 

I  next  take  down  Hume.  In  glancing  over  [his]  exposition 
of  the  doctrine,  I  see  the  following  :  —  "  When  we  have  found 
a  resemblance  among  several  objects,  we  apply  the  same  name 
to  all  of  them,"  etc.  Again  :  —  "As  individuals  are  collected 
together  and  placed  under  a  general  term,  with  a  view  to  that 
resemblance  which  they  bear  to  each  other,"  etc.-  In  the  last 
page  and  a  half  of  the  section,  it  is  stated,  no  less  than  four 
times,  that  perceived  resemblance  is  the  foundation  of  classifica- 
tion. 

Adam  Smith's  doctrine  is  to  the  same  effect  as  his  predeces- 
sor's. [He  says],  "  It  is  this  application  of  the  name  of  an  in- 
dividual to  a  great  number  of  objects,  whose  resemblance  natu- 
rally recalls  the  idea  of  that  individual,  and  of  the  name  which 
expresses  it,  that  seems  originally  to  have  given  occasion  to  the 
formation  of  these  classes  and  assortments,  which  in  the  Schools 
are  called  genera  and  species,  and  of  which  the  ingenious  and 
eloquent  Rousseau  finds  himself  so  much  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
the  origin.  What  constitutes  a  species  is  merely  a  number  of 
objects  bearing  a  certain  degree  of  resemblance  to  one  another, 
and  on  that  account  denominated  by  a  single  appellation,  which 
may  be  applied  to  express  any  one  of  them." 

From  the  evidence  I  have  already  quoted,  you  will  see  how 
marvellously  wrong  is  Brown's  assertion.  I  assure  you,  that 
not  only  no  Nominalist  ever  overlooked,  ever  excluded,  the 
manifested  resemblance  of  objects  to  each  other,  but  that  every 
Nominalist  explicitly  founded  his  doctrine  of  classification  on 
this  resemblance,  and  on  this  resemblance  alone.   No  Nominalist 


i 


iki 


ever  dreamt  of  disallowing  the  notion  of  relativity,  —  the  con- 
ception of  sunilarity  between  things ; —  this  they  maintain  not  less 
strenuously  than  the  Conceptionalist ;  they  only  deny  that  this 
could  ever  constitute  a  general  notion. 

Brown  is  wrong  in  holding  that  the  notion  of  similitude  is 
general,  and  constitutes  the  general  notion.  But  perhaps  it  may 
be  admitted,  that  Brown  is  wrong  in  asserting  that  the  Nomi- 
nalist excludes  resemblance  as  an  element  of  generalization,  and 
yet  maintained,  that  he  is  right  in  holding,  against  the  Nominal- 
ists, that  the  notion,  or,  as  he  has  it,  the  feeling,  of  the  simihtude 
of  objects  in  certain  respects,  is  general,  and  constitutes  what  is 
called  the  general  notion.  I  am  afraid,  however,  tljat  the  mis- 
conception in  regard  to  this  point  will  be  found  not  inferior  to 
that  in  regard  to  the  other. 

Resemblance  is  often  an  individual,  not  a  general,  relation.  — 
In  the  first  place,  then,  resemblance  is  a  relation-;  and  a  rela- 
tion necessarily  supposes  certain  objects  as  related  terms.  There 
can  thus  be  no  relation  of  resemblance  conceived,  apart  from 
certain  resembling  objects.  This  is  so  manifest,  that  a  formal 
enumeration  of  the  principle  seems  almost  puerile.  Let  it, 
however,  be  laid  down  as  a  first  axiom,  that  the  notion  of  simi- 
larity supposes  the  notion  of  certain  similar  objects. 

In  the  second  place,  objects  cannot  be  similar  without  being 
similar  in  some  particular  mode  or  accident,  —  say  in  color,  in 
figure,  in  size,  in  weight,  in  smell,  in  fluidity,  in  life,  etc.,  etc. 
This  is  equally  evident,  and  this  I  lay  down  as  a  second  axiom. 

In  the  third  place,  I  assume,  as  a  third  axiom,  that  a  resem- 
blance is  not  necessarily  and  of  itself  universal.  On  the  con- 
trary, a  resemblance  between  two  individual  objects,  in  a  deter- 
minate quality,  is  as  individual  and  determinate  as  the  objects 
and  their  resembling  qualities  themselves.  Who,  for  example, 
will  maintain  that  my  actual  notion  of  the  likeness  of  a  particu- 
lar snowball  and  a  particular  ^^g,  is  more  general  than  the 
representations  of  the  several  objects  and  their  resembling 
accidents  of  color? 

Now  let  us  try  Dr.  Brown's  theory  on  these  grounds.  In 
reference  to  the  first,  he  does  not  pretend  that  what  he  calls  the 


476 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


477 


general  feeling  of  resemblance  can  exist  except  between  indi- 
vidual objects  and  individual  representations.  The  universal- 
ity, which  he  arrogates  to  this  feehng,  cannot  accrue  to  it  from 
any  universality  in  the  relative  or  resembhng  ideas.  This  nei- 
ther he  nor  any  other  philosopher  ever  did  or  could  pretend. 
They  are  supposed,  ex  hypothesi,,  to  be  individual,  —  singular. 

Neither,  in  reference  to  the  second  axiom,  does  he  pretend  to 
derive  the  universality  which  he  asserts  to  Ids  feeling  of  resem- 
blance from  the  universality  of  the  notion  of  the  common  qual- 
ity, in  which  this  resemblance  is  realized.  He  does  not,  with 
Locke  and  others,  maintain  this ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  on  the 
admitted  absurdity  of  such  a  foundation  that  he  attempts  to 
establish  the  doctrine  of  Conceptualism  on  another  ground. 

But  if  the  universality,  assumed  by  Dr.  Brown  for  his  "feel- 
ing of  resemblance,"  be  found  neither  in  the  resembling  objects, 
nor  in  the  quahties  through  which  they  are  similar,  we  must  look 
for  it  in  the  feeling  of  resemblance  itself,  apart  from  its  actual 
realization ;  and  this,  in  opposition  to  the  third  axiom  which  we 
laid  down  as  self-evident.  In  these  circumstances,  we  have  cer- 
tainly a  right  to  expect  that  Dr.  Brown  should  have  brought 
cogent  proof  for  an  assertion  so  contrary  to  all  apparent  evi- 
dence, that  although  this  be  the  question  which  perhaps  has 
been  more  ably,  keenly,  and  universally  agitated  than  any  other, 
still  no  philosopher  before  himself  was  found  even  to  imagine 
such  a  possibility.  But  in  proof  of  this  new  paradox.  Dr. 
Brown  has  not  only  brought  no  evidence ;  he  does  not  even 
attempt  to  bring  any.  He  assumes  and  he  asserts,  but  he  haz- 
ards no  argument.  In  this  state  of  matters,  it  is  perhaps  super- 
fluous to  do  more  than  to  rebut  assertion  by  assertion ;  and  as 
Dr.  Brown  is  not  in  possessorio,  and  as  his  opinion  is  even 
opposed  to  the  universal  consent  of  philosophers,  the  counter 
assertion,  if  not  overturned  by  reasoning,  must  prevail. 

But  let  us  endeavor  to  conceive  on  what  grounds  it  could  pos- 
sibly be  supposed  by  Dr.  Brown,  that  the  feeling  of  resemblance 
between  certain  objects,  through  certain  resembling  qualities, 
has  in  it  any  tiling  of  universal,  or  can,  as  he  says,  constitute  the 
general  notion.     This  to  me  is,  indeed,  not  easy  ;  and  every  hy- 


ii 


i 


!  I 


pothesis  I  can  make  is  so  absurd,  that  it  appears  almost  a  libel 
to  attribute  it,  even  by  conjecture,  to  so  ingenious  and  acute  a 
thinker. 

In  thejirst  place,  can  it  be  supposed  that  Dr.  Brown  believed 
that  a  feeling  of  resemblance  between  objects  in  a  certain  qual- 
ity or  respect  was  general,  because  it  was  a  relation  ?  Then 
must  every  notion  of  a  relation  be  a  general  notion ;  wliich 
neither  he  nor  any  other  philosopher  ever  asserts. 

In  the  seco7id  place,  does  he  suppose  that  there  is  any  thing 
in  the  feeling  or  notion  of  the  particular  relation  called  similaX 
ity,  which  is  more  general  than  the  feeling  or  notion  of  any 
other  relation?      This  can  hardly  be  conceived.     What  is  a 
feeling  or  notion  of  resemblance  ?     Merely  this ;   two  objects 
affect  us  in  a  certain  manner,  and  we  are  conscious  they  affect 
us  in  the  same  way  that  a  single  object  does,  when  presented  at 
different  times  to  our  perception.     In  either  case,  we  judge  that 
the  affections  of  which  we  are  conscious  are  similar  or  the  same. 
There  is  nothing  general  in  this  consciousness,  or  in  this  judg- 
ment.    At  all  events,  the  relation  recognized  between  the  con- 
sciousness of  similarity  produced  on  us  by  two  different  e<rrrs  is 
not  more  general  than  the  feeling  of  similarity  producedTn'us 
by  two  successive  presentations  of  the  same  ^gg.     If  the  one  is 
to  be  called  general,  so  is  the  other.     Again,  if  the  feeling  or 
notion  of  resemblance  be  made  general,  so  must  the  feelin°  or 
notion   of  difference.     They  are   absolutely  the  same  notion, 
only  m  different  applications.     You  know  the  logical  axiom,  -^ 
the  science  of  contraries  is  one.     We  know  the  Hke  only  as  we 
know  the  unlike.     Every  affirmation  of  similarity  is  virtuaUy 
an  affirmation  that  difference  does  not  exist ;  every  affirmation 
of  difference  is  virtually  an  affirmation  that  similarity  is  not  to 
be  found.     But  neither  Brown  nor  any  other  philosopher  has 
pretended,  that  the  apprehension  of  difference  is  either  general, 
or  a  ground  of  generalization.     On  the  contrary,  the  apprehen' 
sion  of  difference  is  the  negation  of  generalization,  and  a  descent 
from  the  universal  to  the  particular.     But  if  the  notion  or  feel- 
mg  of  the  dissimilarity  is  not  general,  neither  is  the  feelino-  or 
notion  of  the  similarity,  ^ 


^  'I 


478 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUAUSM. 


NOMINALISM  AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 


479 


In  the  third  place,  can  it  be  that  Dr.  Brown  supposes  the 
particular  feeling  or  consciousness  of  similarity  between  certain 
objects  in  certain  respects  to  be  general,  because  we  have,  in 
general,  a  capacity  of  feeling  or  being  conscious  of  similarity  ? 
This  conjecture  is  equally  improbable.  On  tliis  ground,  every 
act  of  every  power  would  be  general ;  and  we  should  not  be 
obliged  to  leave  Imagination,  in  order  to  seek  for  the  universal- 
ity, which  we  cannot  discover  in  the  light  or  definitude  of  that 
faculty,  in  the  obscurity  and  vagueness  of  another. 

Conceptions  distinguished  from  imaginations,  or  concepts 
from  images.  —  In  the  fourth  place,  only  one  other  supposition 
remains ;  and  this  may  perhaps  enable  us  to  explain  the  possi- 
bility of  Dr.  Brown's  hallucination.  A  relation  cannot  be 
represented  in  Imagination.  The  two  terms,  the  two  relative 
objects,  can  be  severally  imaged  in  the  sensible  phantasy,  but 
not  the  relation  itself.  This  is  the  object  of  the  Comparative 
Faculty,  or  of  Intelligence  Proper.  To  objects  so  different  as 
the  images  of  sense  and  the  unpicturable  notions  of  intelligence, 
different  names  ought  to  be  given ;  and,  accordingly,  this  has 
been  done  wherever  a  pliilosophical  nomenclature  of  the  slight- 
est pretensions  to  perfection  has  been  formed.  In  the  German 
language,  which  is  now  the  richest  in  metaphysical  expressions 
of  any  living  tongue,  the  two  kinds  of  objects  are  carefully  dis- 
tinguished. In  our  language,  on  the  contrary,  the  idea,  concep- 
tion, notion,  are  used  almost  as  convertible  for  either ;  and  the 
vagueness  and  confusion  which  is  thus  produced,  even  within 
the  narrow  sphere  of  speculation  to  which  the  want  of  the  dis- 
tinction also  confines  us,  can  be  best  appreciated  by  those  who 
are  conversant  with  the  philosophy  of  the  different  countries. 

Dr.  Brown  seems  to  have  had  some  faint  perception  of  the 
difference  between  intellectual  notions  and  sensible  representa- 
tions ;  and  if  he  had  endeavored  to  signalize  their  contrast  by 
a  distinction  of  terms,  he  would  have  deserved  well  of  Enghsh 
philosophy.  But  he  mistook  the  nature  of  the  intellectual  no- 
tion, which  connects  two  particular  qualities  by  the  bond  of 
similarity,  and  imagined  that  there  lurked  under  this  intangible 
relation  the  universahty  which,  he  clearly  saw,  could  not  be 


i'  \ 


M 


found  in  a  representation  of  the  related  objects,  or  of  their  re- 
sembling qualities.  At  least,  if  this  do  not  assist  us  in  account- 
ing for  his  misconception,  I  do  not  know  in  what  way  we  other- 
wise can. 

"What  I  have  now  said  is,  I  think,  sufficient  in  regard  to  the 
nature  of  Generalization.  It  is  notoriously  a  mere  act  of  Com- 
parison. We  compare  objects ;  we  find  them  similar  in  certain 
respects,  —  that  is,  in  certain  respects  they  affect  us  in  the  same 
manner ;  we  consider  the  qualities  in  them,  that  thus  affect  us 
in  the  same  manner,  as  the  same ;  and  to  this  common  quahty 
we  give  a  name ;  and  as  we  can  predicate  this  name  of  all  and 
each  of  the  resembling  objects,  it  constitutes  them  into  a  class. 
Aristotle  has  truly  said  that  general  names  are  only  abbreviated 
definitions,  and  definitions,  you  know,  are  judgments.  For  ex- 
ample, animal  is  only  a  compendious  expression  for  organized 
and  animated  body  ;  man,  only  a  summary  of  rational  animaly 
etc 


THE  PRIMUM  COGNITUM, 


481 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

IHE    ELABORATIVE   FACULTY.  — THE    PRIMUM    COGNITUM.— 

JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 

What  does  Language  originate  in?  —  I  proceed  now  to  a 
very  curious  question,  which  has  likewise  divided  philosophers. 
It  is  this,  —  Does  Language  originate  in  General  Appellatives, 
or  hy  Proper  Names  ?  Did  mankind  in  the  formation  of  lan- 
guage, and  do  children  in  their  first  applications  of  it,  commence 
with  the  one  kind  of  words  or  with  the  other?  The  deter- 
mination of  this  question,  —  the  question  of  the  Primum  Cog- 
nitum,  as  it  was  called  in  the  Schools,  is  not  involved  in  the 
doctrine  of  Nominalism.  Many  illustrious  philosophers  have 
maintained  that  all  terms,  as  at  first  employed,  are  expressive 
of  individual  objects,  and  that  these  only  subsequently  obtain  a 
general  acceptation. 

1.  That  our  first  ideas  and  names  are  of  particulars.  —  This 
opinion  I  find  maintained  by  Vives,  Locke,  Rousseau,  Condillac, 
Adam  Smith,  and  others.  "  The  order  of  learning  "  (I  trans- 
late from  Vives)  "  is  from  the  senses  to  the  imagination,  and 
from  this  to  the  intellect ;  —  such  is  the  order  of  life  and  of 
nature.  We  thus  proceed  from  the  simple  to  the  complex,  from 
the  sinsrular  to  the  universal.  This  is  to  be  observed  in  chil- 
dren,  who  first  of  all  express  the  several  parts  of  different  things, 
and  then  conjoin  them.  Things  general  they  call  by  a  singular 
name  ;  for  instance,  they  call  all  smiths  by  the  name  of  that  in- 
dividual smith  whom  they  have  first  known,  and  all  meats,  heef 
or  pork  J  as  they  have  happened  to  have  heard  the  one  or  the 
other  first,  when  tliey  begin  to  speak.  Thereafter  the  mind  col- 
lects universals  from  particulars,  and  then  again  reverts  to  partic- 
(480) 


ulars  from  universals."     The  same  doctrine,  without  probably 
any  knowledge  of  Vives,  is  maintained  by  Locke.     "  There  is 
nothing  more  evident,"  he  says,  "  than  that  the  ideas  of  the 
persons  children  converse  with,  (to  instance  in  them  alone),  are, 
like  the  persons  themselves,  only  particular.     The  ideas  of  the 
nurse  and  the  mother  are  well  framed   in  their  minds;   and, 
like  pictures  of  them  there,  represent  only  those  individuals. 
The  names  they  first  gave  to  them  are  confined  to  these  indi- 
viduals ;  and  the  names  of  nurse  and  mamma,  the  child  uses, 
determine  themselves  to  those  persons.     Afterwards,  when  time 
and  a  larger  acquaintance  have  made  them  observe  that  there 
are  a  great  many  other  things  in  the  world,  that,  in  some  com- 
mon agreements  of  shape,  and  several  other  qualities,  resem- 
ble their  father  and  mother,  and  those  persons  they  have  been 
used  to,  they  frame  an  idea  which  they  find  those  many  par- 
ticulars do  partake  in ;  and  to  that  they  give,  with  others,  the 
name  man,  for  example.    And  thus  they  come  to  have  a  general 
name,  and  a  general  idea." 

Adam  Smith  has,  however,  the  merit  of  having  applied  this 
theory  to  the  formation  of  language ;  and  his  doctrine  is  too 
important  not  to  be  fully  stated,  and  in  his  own  powerful  lan- 
guage. "  The  assignation,"  says  Smith,  "  of  particular  names, 
to  denote  particular  objects,  —  that  is,  the  institution  of  nouns 
substantive,  would  probably  be  one  of  the  first  steps  towards 
the  formation  of  language.  Two  savages,  who  had  never  been 
taught  to  speak,  but  had  been  bred  up  remote  from  the  societies 
of  men,  would  naturally  begin  to  form  that  language  by  which 
they  would  endeavor  to  make  their  mutual  wants  intelligible  to 
each  other,  by  uttering  certain  sounds  whenever  they  meant  to 
denote  certain  objects.  Those  objects  only  which  were  most 
familiar  to  them,  and  which  they  had  most  frequent  occasion  to 
mention,  would  have  particular  names  assigned  to  them.  The 
particular  cave  whose  covering  sheltered  them  from  the  weather, 
the  particular  tree  whose  fruit  relieved  their  hunger,  the  par- 
ticular fountain  whose  water  allayed  their  thirst,  would  first  be 
denominated  by  the  words,  cave,  tree,  fountain,  or  by  whatever 
appellations  they  might  tliink  proper,  in  that  primitive  jargon. 

41 


482 


THE  PRIMUM  COGNITUM. 


THE  PRIMUM  COGNITUM. 


483 


to  mark  them.     Afterwards,  when   the  more  enlarged  expe- 
rience of  these  savages  had  led  them  to  observe,  and  their  nec- 
essary occasions  obliged  them  to  make  mention  of  other  caves, 
and  other  trees,  and  other  fountains,  they  would  naturally  be- 
stow upon  each  of  those  new  objects  the  same  name  by  which 
they  had  been  accustomed  to  express  the  similar  object  they 
were    first    acquainted  with.      The  new  objects  had  none  of 
them  any  name  of  its  own,  but  each  of  them  exactly  resem- 
bled another  object,  which  had  such  an  appellation.      It  was 
impossible  that  those  savages  could  behold    the    new  objects, 
without  recollecting   the   old  ones,  and  the  name   of  the  old 
ones,  to  which  the  new  bore  so  close  a  resemblance.      When 
they  had  occasion,  therefore,  to  mention  or  to  point  out  to  each 
other  any  of  the  new  objects,  they  would  naturally  utter  the 
name  of  the  correspondent  old  one,  of  which  the  idea  could  not 
fiiil,  at   that   instant,  to  present  itself  to  their  memoiy  in   the 
strongest  and  liveliest  manner.     And  thus  those  words,  which 
were  originally  the  proper  names  of  individuals,  would  each  of 
them  insensibly  become  the  common  name  of  a  multitude.     A 
child  that  is  just  learning  to  speak,  calls   every  person  who 
comes  to  the  house  its  papa,  or  its  mamma ;  and  thus  bestows 
upon  the  whole  species  those  names  which  it  had  been  taught 
to  apply  to  two  individuals.     I  have  known  a  clown  who  did 
not  know  the  proper  name  of  the  river  which  ran  by  his  own 
door.     It  was  the  river^  he  said,  and  he  never  heard  any  other 
name  for  it.     His  experience,  it  seems,  had  not  led  him  to 
observe  any  other  river.     The  general  word  river,  therefore, 
was,  it  is  evident,  in  his  acceptance  of  it,  a  proper  name  signify- 
ing an  individual  object.     If  this  person  had  been  carried  to 
another  river,  would   he   not  readily  have    called  it  a  river? 
Could  we  suppose  a  person  living  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames 
so   ignorant  as  not  to  know  tlie  general  word  river,  but  to  be 
acquainted  only  with  the  particuhir  word   Thames,  if  he  was 
brought   to   any   other   river,  would   he   not  readily  call  it  a 
Thames  ?     This,  in  reality,  is  no  more  than  what  they  who  are 
well  acquainted  with  the  general  word  are  vciy  apt  to  do.     An 
EngUshman,  describing  any  great  river  which  he  may  have 


\ 


seen  m  some  foreign  country,  naturally  says,  that  it  is.  another 
1  names.     The  Spaniards,  when  they  first  arrived   upon  the 
coast  of  Mexico,  and  observed  the  wealth,  populousness,  and 
habitations  of  that  fine  country,  so  much  superior  to  the  sava-e 
nations  which  they  had  been  visiting  for  some  time  before,  cried 
out   that   It  was   another   Spain.     Hence   it   was  called  New 
i>pam  ;  and  this  name  has  stuck  to  that  unfortunate  country  ever 
since.     We  say,  in  the  same  manner,  of  a  hero,  that  he  is  an 
Alexander;  of  an  orator,  that  he  is  a  Cicero;  of  a  philosopher, 
that  he  IS  a  Newton.     This  way  of  speaking,  which  the  gram- 
marians   call   an    Antonomasia,   and  which  is   still  extremely 
common,  though  now  not  at  all  necessary,  demonstrates  how 
much  mankind  are  naturally  disposed  to  give  to  one  object  the 
name  of  any  other  which  nearly  resembles  it;  and  thus,  to  de- 
nominate a  multitude  by  what  originally  was  intended  to  express 
an  individual. 

"  It  is  tliis  application  of  the  name  of  an  individual  to  a  great 
multitude  of  objects,  whose  resemblance  naturally  recalls  the 
Idea  of  that  individual,  and  of  the  name  which  expresses  it,  that 
seems  originally  to  have  given  occasion  to  the  formation  of  those 
classes  and  assortments  which,  in  the  Schools,  are  called  genera 
and  species." 

■  2.    That  we  first  use  general  terms.  —  On  the  other  hand  an 
opposite  doctrine  is  maintained  by  many  profound  philosophers. 
A  large  section  of  the  Schoolmen  embraced  it ;  and,  anions  more 
modern  thinkers,  it  is  adopted  by  Leibnitz,  who  says,  that""  gen- 
eral terms  serve  not  only  for  the  perfection  of  languages,  but 
are  even  necessaiy  for  their  essential  constitution.     For  if  by 
parttculars  be  understood  things  individual,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  speak,  if  there  were  only  proper  names,  and  no  appel- 
latives, that  is  to  say,  if  there  were  only  names  for  thin<.s  indi- 
vidual, since,  at  every  moment,  we  are  met  by  new  ones"  when 
we  treat  of  persons,  of  accidents,  and  especially  of  actions,  which 
are  those  that  we  describe  the  most;  but  if  by  particulars  be 
meant  the  lowest  species   (species  infimas),  besides  that  it  is 
frequently  very  difficult  to  determine  them,  it  is  manifest  that 
vhcse  are  aheady  universals,  founded  on  similarity.     Now   as 


484 


THE  PRBIUBI  COGNITUM. 


THE  PRIMUM  COGNITUM. 


485 


the  only  difference  of  species  and  genera  lies  in  a  similarity  of 
greater  or  less  extent,  it  is  natural  to  note  every  kind  of  simi- 
larity or  agreement,  and,  consequently,  to  employ  general  terms 
of  every  degree  ;  nay,  the  most  general  being  less  complex  with 
regard  to  the  essences  which  they  comprehend,  although  more 
extensive  in  relation  to  the  things  individual  to  which  they 
apply,  are  frequently  the  easiest  to  form,  and  are  the  most  use- 
ful. It  is  likewise  seen  that  children,  and  those  who  know  but 
little  of  the  language  which  they  attempt  to  speak,  or  little  of 
the  subject  on  which  they  would  employ  it,  make  use  of  general 
terms,  as  thing,  plant,  animal,  instead  of  using  proper  names, 
of  which  they  are  destitute.  And  it  is  certain  that  all  proper 
or  individual  names  have  been  originally  appellative  or  general." 
In  illusti-ation  of  this  latter  most  important  doctrine,  he,  in  a 
subsequent  part  of  the  work,  says :  "  I  would  add,  in  conformity 
to  what  I  have  previously  observed,  that  proper  names  have 
been  originally  appellative,  that  is  to  say,  general  in  their  origin, 
as  Brutus,  Caisar,  Augustus,  Capito,  Lentulus,  Piso,  Cicero, 
Elbe,  Rhine,  Rhur,  Leinc,  Ocker,  Bucephalus,  Alps,  Pyrenees, 
etc.,"  and,  after  illustrating  this  in  detail,  he  concludes :  —  "  Thus 
I  would  make  bold  to  affirm  that  almost  all  words  have  been 
originally  general  terms,  because  it  would  happen  very  rarely 
that  men  would  invent  a  name,  expressly  and  without  a  reason, 
to  denote  this  or  that  individual.  We  may,  therefore,  assert 
that  the  names  of  individual  things  Avere  names  of  species,  which 
were  given  par  excellence,  or  otherwise,  to  some  individual,  as 
the  name  Ch-eat  Head  to  him  of  the  whole  town  who  had  the 
largest,  or  wlio  was  the  man  of  most  consideration,  of  the  Great 
Heads  known.  It  is  thus,  likewise,  that  men  give  the  names  of 
genera  to  species,  that  is  to  say,  that  they  content  themselves 
with  a  term  more  general  or  vague  to  denote  more  particulai' 
classes,  when  they  do  not  care  about  the  differences.  As,  for 
example,  we  content  ourselves  with  the  general  name  absinthium 
(wormwood),  although  there  are  so  many  species  of  the  plant 
that  one  of  the  Bauhins  has  filled  a  whole  book  with  them." 

That  this  was  likewise  the  opinion  of  the  great  Turgot,  we 
learn  from  his   biographer.      "M.  Turgot,"  says    Condorcet, 


\ 


, 


"believed  that  the  opinion  was  wrong,  which  held  that,  in  gen- 
eral, the  mind  only  acquired  general  or  abstract  ideas  by  the 
comparison  of  more  particular  ideas.  On  the  contrary  our 
first  ideas  are  very  general ;  for,  seeing  at  first  only  a  small  num- 
ber of  qualities,  our  idea  includes  all  the  existences  to  which 
these  quahties  are  common.  As  we  acquire  knowledge,  our 
Ideas  become  more  particular,  without  ever  reaching  the  last 
hmit ;  and,  what  might  have  deceived  the  metaphysicians,  it  is 
precisely  by  this  process  that  we  learn  that  these  ideas  are  more 
general  than  we  had  at  first  supposed." 

Here  are  two  opposite  opinions,  each  having  nearly  equal 
authority  in  its  favor,  maintained  on  both  sides  with  equal  abil- 
ity and  apparent  evidence.  Either  doctrine  would  be  held 
estabhshed  were  we  unacquainted  with  the  arguments  in  favor 
of  the  other. 

3.  That  our  first  ideas  and  terms  are  only  vague  and  confused, 
—  But  I  have  now  to  state  to  you  a  third  opinion,  intermediate 
between  these,  which  conciliates  both,  and  seems,  moreover,  to 
carry  a  superior  probability  in  its  statement.  This  opinion 
mamtains,  that  as  our  knowledge  proceeds  from  the  confused 
to  the  distinct,  — from  the  vague  to  the  determinate,  —  so,  in 
the  mouths  of  children,  language  at  first  expresses  neither,  the 
precisely  general  nor  the  determinately  individual,  but  the  vague 
and  confused;  and  that,  out  of  this,  the  universal  is  elaborated 
by  generification,  the  particular  and  singular  by  specification 
and  individualization. 

I  formerly  explained  wliy  I  view  the  doctrine  held  by  Mr. 
Sfrewart  and  others  in  regard  to  perception  in  general  and  vision 
m  particular,  as  erroneous ;  inasmuch  as  they  conceive  that  our 
sensible  cognitions  are  formed  by  the  addition  of  an  ahnost  in- 
.finite  number  of  separate  and  consecutive  acts  of  attentive  per- 
ception, each  act  being  cognizant  of  a  certain  minimum  sensibile. 
On  the  contrary,  I  showed  that,  instead  of  commencing  with 
mmima,  perception  commences  with  masses ;  that,  though  our 
capacity  of  attention  be  very  limited  in  regard  to  the  number 
of  objects  on  which  a  faculty  can  be  simultaneously  directed, 
yet  these  objects  may  be  large  or  small.     We  may  make,  for 

41* 


486 


THE  PllIMUM  COGNITUM. 


example,  a  single  object  of  attention  either  of  a  whole  man,  or 
of  his  face,  or  of  his  eye,  or  of  the  pupil  of  his  eye,  or  of  a 
speck  upon  the  pupil.  To  each  of  these  objects  there  can  only 
be  a  certain  amount  of  attentive  perception  applied,  and  we 
can  concentrate  it  all  on  any  one.  In  proportion  as  the  object 
is  larger  and  more  complex,  our  attention  can  of  course  be  less 
applied  to  any  part  of  it,  and  consequently,  our  knowledge  of  it 
in  detail  will  be  vaguer  and  more  imperfect.  But  having  first 
acquired  a  comprehensive  knowledge  of  it  as  a  whole,  we  can 
descend  to  its  several  parts,  consider  these  both  in  themselves, 
and  in  relation  to  each  other,  and  to  the  whole  of  which  they 
are  constituents,  and  thus  attain  to  a  complete  and  articulate 
knowledge  of  the  object.     We  decompose,  and  then  we  recom- 

pose. 

The  mind  proceeds  hy  analysis,  from  the  whole  to  the  parts, — 
But  in  this  we  always  proceed  first  by  decomposition  or  analysis. 
All  analysis  indeed  supposes  a  foregone  composition  or  synthesis, 
because  we  cannot  decompose  what  is  not  already  composite. 
But  in  our  acquisition  of  knowledge,  the  objects  are  presented 
to  us  compounded ;  and  they  obtain  a  unity  only  in  the  unity  of 
our  consciousness.     The  unity  of  consciousness  is,  as  it  were, 
the  frame  in  which  objects  are  seen.     I  say,  then,  that  the  first 
procedure  of  mind  in  the  elaboration  of  its  knowledge  is  always 
analytical.     It  descends  from  the  whole  to  the  parts,  —  from 
the  vague  to  the  definite.     Definitude,  that  is,  a  knowledge  of 
minute  differences,  is  not,  as  the  opposite  theory  supposes,  the 
first,  but  the  last,  term  of  our  cognitions.     Between  two  sheep 
an  ordinary  spectator  can  probably  apprehend  no  difference, 
and  if  they  were  twice  presented  to  him,  he  would  be  unable 
to  discriminate  the  one  from  the  other.     But  a  shepherd  can 
distinguish  every  individual  sheep;   and  why?      Because  he 
has  descended  from  the  vague  knowledge  which  we  all  have  of 
sheep,  —  from  the  vague  knowledge  which  makes  every  sheep, 
as  it  were,  only  a  repetition  of  the  same  undifferenced  unit,  — 
to  a  definite  knowledge  of  qualities  by  which  each  is  contrasted 
from  its  neighbor.     Now,  in  this  example,  we  apprehend  the 
sheep  by  marks  not  less  individual  than  those  by  which  the 


THE  PRIMUM  COGNITUM.  437 

Shepherd  discriminates  them ;  but  the  whole  of  each  sheep  be- 
ing made  an  object,  the  marks  by  which  we  know  it  are  the 
same  m  each  and  all,  and  cannot,  therefore,  afford  the  principle 
by  which  we  can  discriminate  them  from  each  other.     Now  this 
IS  what  appears  to  me  to  take  place  with  children.     They  fir^t 
know,  — they  first  cognize,  the  things  and  persons  presented  to 
them  as  wholes.     But  wholes  of  the  same  kind,  if  we  do  not 
descend  to  their  parts,  afford  us  no  difference,  -  no  mark  by 
which  we  can  discriminate  the  one  from  the  other.     Childi-en 
thus,  originally  perceiving  similar  objects,  -  persons,  for  exam' 
pie,  --  only  as  wholes,  do  at  first  hardly  distinguish  them.     They 
apprehend  first  the  more  obtrusive  marks  that  separate  species 
Irom  species  and,  in  consequence  of  the  notorious  contrast  of 
dress,  men  from  women  ;  but  they  do  not  as  yet  recognize  the 
finer  traits  that  discriminate  individual  from  individual      But, 
though  thus  apprehending  individuals  only  by  what  we  now  call 
their  specific  or  their  generic  qualities,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  children  know  them  by  any  abstract  general  attributes,  that 
IS,  by  attributes  formed  by  comparison  and  attention.     On  the 
other  hand,  because  their  knowledge  is  not  general,  it  is  not  to 
be  supposed  to  be  particular  or  individual,  if  by  particular  be 
meant  a  separation  of  species  from  species,  and  by  individual 
the  separation  of  individual  from  individual ;  for  children  are 
at  first  apt  to  confound  individuals  together,  not  only  in  name 
but  in  reality.     "A  child"  [says  Degerando]  "who  has  been 
taught  to  say  papa,  in  pointing  to  his  father,  will  give  at  first 
as  Locke  [and  Aristotle  before  him]  had  remarked,  the  namj 
of  papa  to  all  the  men  whom  he  sees.     As  he  only  at  first  seizes 
on  the  more  striking  appearances  of  objects,  they  would  appear 
to  him  all  similar,  and  he  denotes  them  by  ih^  same  names. 
15ut  when  It  has  been  pointed  out  to  him  that  he  is  mistaken,  or 
when  he  has  discovered  this  by  the  consequences  of  his  Ian- 
guage,  he  studies  to  discriminate  the  objects  which  he  had  con- 
founded, and  he  takes   hold  of   their  differences.     The  child 
commences  like  the  savage,  by  employing  only  isolated  words 
m  place  of  phrases;  he  commences  by  taking  verbs  and  nouns 
only  in  their  absolute  state.     But  as  these  imperfect  attempts  at 


488 


THE  PRIMUM  COGNITUM. 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


489 


speech  express  at  once  many  and  very  different  things,  and  pro- 
duce, in  consequence,  manifold  ambiguities,  he  soon  discovers 
the  necessity  of  determining  them  with  greater  exactitude ;  he 
endeavors  to  make  it  understood  in  what  respects  the  thing 
which  he  wishes  to  denote,  is  distinguished  from  those  with 
which  it  is  confounded;  and,  to  succeed  in  this  endeavor,  he 
tries  to  distinguish  them  himself.  Thus  when,  at  this  age,  the 
child  seems  to  us  as  yet  unoccupied,  he  is  in  reality  very  busy ; 
he  is  devoted  to  a  study  which  differs  not  in  its  nature  from  that 
to  which  the  philosopher  applies  himself;  the  cliild,  like  the 
philosopher,  observes,  compares,  and  analyses." 

In  support  of  this  doctrine  I  can  appeal  to  high  authority  ;  it 
is  that  maintained  by  Aristotle.  Speaking  of  the  order  of  pro- 
cedure in  physical  science,  he  says,  "  We  ought  to  proceed  from 
the  better  known  to  the  less  known,  and  from  what  is  clearer  to 
us  to  that  which  is  clearer  in  nature.  But  those  things  are  first 
known  and  clearer,  which  are  more  complex  and  confused ;  for 
it  is  only  by  subsequent  analysis  that  we  attain  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  parts  and  elements  of  which  they  are  composed.  We 
ought,  therefore,  to  proceed  from  universals  to  singulars  ;  for  the 
whole  is  better  known  to  sense  than  its  parts ;  and  the  universal 
is  a  kind  of  whole,  as  the  universal  comprehends  many  things 
as  its  parts.  Thus  it  is  that  names  are  at  first  better  known  to 
us  than  definitions ;  for  the  name  denotes  a  whole,  and  that  in- 
determinately ;  whereas  the  definition  divides  and  explicates  its 
parts.  Children,  likewise,  at  first  call  all  men  fathers  and  all 
women  mothers  ;  but  thereafter  they  learn  to  discriminate  each 
individual  from  another." 

I  have  terminated  the  consideration  of  the  faculty  of  Com- 
parison in  its  process  of  Generalization.  I  am  now  to  consider  it 
in  those  of  its  operations,  whicli  have  obtained  the  special  names 
of  Judgment  and  Reasoning. 

In  these  processes,  the  act  of  Comparison  is  a  judgment  of 
something:  more  than  a  mere  affirmation  of  the  existence  of  a 
phienomenon,  —  something  more  than  a  mere  discrimination  of 
one  phjenomenon  from  another ;  and,  accordingly,  while  it  has 
happened,  that  the  intervention  of  judgment  in  every,  even  the 


simplest,  act  of  primary  cognition,  as  monotonous  and  rapid 
has  been  overlooked,  the  name  has  been  exclusively  limited  to 
the  more  vai-ied  and  elaborate  comparison  of  one  notion  with 
another,  and  the  enouncement  of  their  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment.    It  13  in  the  discharge  of  this,  its  more  obtrusive,  func- 
tion, that  we  are  now  about  to  consider  the  Elaborative  Faculty 
Why  Judgment  and  Eeasoning  are  necessary.  —  Considering 
the  Elaborative  Faculty  a,  a  mean  of  discovering  truth,  by  a 
comparison  of  the  notions  we  have  obtained  from  the  Acquisi- 
tive Powers,  it  is  evident  that,  though  this  faculty  be  the  attri- 
bute by  which  a  man  is  distinguished  as  a  creation  higher  than 
the  animals,  it  is  equally  the  quality  which  marks  his  inferiority 
to  superior  intelligences.     Judgment  and  Reasoning  are  ren- 
dered  necessary  by  the  imperfection  of  our  nature.     Were  we 
capable  of  a  knowledge  of  things  and  their  relations  at  a  single 
view,  by  an  intuitive  glance,  discursive  thought  would  be  a  su- 
perfluous act.     It  is  by  such  an  intuition  that  we  must  suppose 
that  the  Supreme  Intelligence  knows  all  things  at  once. 

I  have  already  noticed  that  our  knowledge  does  not  com- 
mence with  the  individual  and  the  most  particular  objects  of 
knowledge, -that we  do  not  rise  in  any  regular  progress  from 
the  less  to  the  more  general,  first  considering  the  qualities  v'lich 
characterize  individuals,  then  those  which  belong  to  species  and 
genera,   in  regukr  ascent.     On   the  contrary,  our  knowled-e 
commences  with  the  vague  and  confused,  in  the  way  which 
Aristotle  has  so  well  illustrated.     This  I  may  further  explain 
by  another  analogy.     AVe  perceive  an  object  approaching  from 
a  distance.     At  first,  we  do  not  know  whether  it  be  a  living  or 
an  inanimate  thing.     By  degrees,  we  become  aware  that  it  is  an 
ammal;  but  of  what  kind,  —  whether  man  or  beast,  — we  are 
not  as  yet  able  to  determine.     It  continues  to  advance,  we  dis- 
■  cover  It  to  be  a  quadruped,  but  of  what  species  we  cannot  yet 
say.     At  length,  we  perceive  that  it  is  a  horse,  and  again,  after 
a  season,  we  find  that  it  is  Bucephalus.     Thus,  as  I  formeriy 
observed,  children,  first  of  all,  take  note  of  the  generic  diifer- 
ences,  and  they  can  distinguish  species  long  before  they  are  able 
to  discriminate  individuals.    In  all  this,  however,  I  must  a-ain 


490 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


remark,  that  our  knowledge  does  not  properly  commence  with 
the  general,  but  with  the  vague  and  confused.  Out  of  this  the 
general  and  the  individual  are  both  equally  evolved. 

What  is  an  act  of  judgment.  —  "  In  consequence  of  this  gene- 
alogy of  our  knowledge,"  [says  Crousaz,]  "we  usually  com- 
mence by  bestowing  a  name  upon  a  whole  object,  or  congeries 
of  objects,  of  which,  however,  we  possess  only  a  partial  and 
indefinite  conception.  In  the  sequel,  this  vague  notion  becomes 
somewhat  more  determinate ;  the  partial  idea  which  we  had, 
becomes  enlarged  by  ne  vv  accessions ;  by  degrees,  our  concep- 
tion waxes  fuller,  and  represents  a  greater  number  of  attributes. 
With  this  con(;eption,  thus  amplified  and  improved,  we  compare 
the  last  notion  which  has  been  acquired,  that  is  to  say,  we  com- 
pare a  part  with  its  whole,  or  with  the  other  parts  of  this  whole, 
and  finding  that  it  is  harmonious,  —  that  it  dovetails  and  nat- 
urally assorts  with  other  parts,  we  acquiesce  in  this  union ;  and 
tliis  we  denominate  an  act  of  judgment. 

"  In  learning  arithmetic,  I  form  the  notion  of  the  number  six, 
as  surpassing  ^re  by  a  single  unit,  and  as  surpassed  in  the  same 
proportion  by  seven.  Then  I  find  that  it  can  be  divided  into 
two  equal  halves,  of  wliich  each  contains  three  units.  By  this 
procedure,  the  notion  of  the  number  six  becomes  more  complex ; 
the  notion  of  an  even  number  is  one  of  its  parts.  Comparing 
this  new  notion  with  that  of  the  number,  six  becomes  fuller  by 
its  addition.  I  recognize  that  the  two  notions  suit,  —  in  other 
words  I  judge  that  six  is  an  even  number. 

*'  I  have  the  conception  of  a  triangle,  and  this  conception  is 
composed  in  my  mind  of  several  others.  Among  these  partial 
notions,  I  select  that  of  two  sides  greater  than  the  third,  and 
this  notion,  which  I  had  at  first,  as  it  were,  taken  apart,  I  reu- 
nite with  the  others  from  which  it  had  been  separated,  saying 
the  triangle  contains  always  two  sides,  which  together  are 
greater  than  the  third. 

"AVhen  I  say,  body  is  divisible  among  the  notions  which 
concur  in  forming  my  conception  of  body,  I  particularly  attend 
to  that  of  divisible,  and  finding  that  it  really  agrees  with  the 
others,  I  judge  accordingly  that  body  is  divisible. 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  491 

Subject.     Predicate.     Copula.  —  «  Every  time  we  judge,  we 
compare  a  total  conception  with  a  partial,  and  we  recognize  that 
the  latter  really  constitutes  a  part  of  the  former.     One  of  these 
conceptions  has  received  the  name  of  subject,  the  other,  that  of 
attribute  or  predicate."     The  verb  which  connects   these  two 
parts  is  called  the  copula.      The  quadrangle  is  a  double  triangle; 
nine  is  an  odd  number;  body  is  divisible.     Here  quadrangle, 
mne,  body,  are  subjects  ;  a  double  triangle,  an  odd  number,  divis^ 
ible,  are  predicates.    The  whole  mental  judgment,  formed  by  the 
subject,  predicate,  and  copula,  is  called,  when  enounced  in  words 
proposition.  ' 

"  In  discourse,  the  parts  of  a  proposition  are  not  always  found 
placed  in  logical  order ;  but  to  discover  and  discriminate  them, 
It  is  only  requisite  to  ask,  —  What  is  the  thing  of  which  something 
else  IS  affirmed  or  denied'^  The  answer  to  this  question  will 
pomt  out  the  subject ;  and  we  shall  find  the  predicate  if  we 
inquire,—  What  is  affirmed  or  denied  of  the  matter  of  which  we 
speak  ? 

"A  proposition  is  sometimes  so  enounced  that  each  of  its 
terms  may  be  considered  as  subject  and  as  predicate.  Thus, 
when  we  say,  — Death  is  the  wages  of  sin;  we  may  regard  sin 
as  the  subject  of  which  we  predicate  death,  as  one  of  it's  conse- 
quences, and  we  may  likewise  view  death  as  the  subject  of 
which  we  predicate  si?i,  as  the  origin.  In  these  cases,  we  must 
consider  the  general  tenor  of  the  discourse,  and  determine  from 
the  context  what  is  the  matter  of  which  it  principally  treats." 

"  In  fine,  when  we  judge,  we  must  have,  in  the  first  place,  at 
,  least  two  notions ;  in  the  second  place,  we  compare  these ;  in 
the  third,  we  recognize  that  one  contains  or  excludes  the  other ; 
and,  in  the  fourth,  we  acquiesce  in  this  recognition." 

Reasoning  is  complex  and  mediate  judgme7it.  —  Simple  Com- 
parison or  Judgment  is  conversant  with  two  notions,  the  one  of 
which  is  contained  in  the  other.  But  it  often  happens,  that  one 
notion  is  contained  in  another  not  immediately,  but  mediately, 
and  we  may  be  able  to  recognize  the  relation  of  these  to  each 
other  only  through  a  third,  which,  as  it  immediately  contains 
the  one,  is   immediately  contained   in   the   other.     Take   the 


492 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


notions,  A,  B,  C.  —  A  contains  B  ;  B  contains  C  ;  —  A,  there- 
fore, also  contains  C.  But  as,  ex  hypothesis  we  do  not  at  once 
and  directly  know  C  as  contained  in  A,  we  cannot  immediately 
compare  them  together,  and  judge  of  their  relation.  We,  there- 
fore, perform  a  double  or  complex  process  of  comparison ;  we 
compare  B  with  A,  and  C  with  B,  and  then  C  with  A,  through 
B.  We  say  B  is  a  part  of  A ;  C  is  a  part  of  B ;  therefore,  C 
is  a  part  of  A.  This  double  act  of  comparison  has  obtained  the 
name  of  Reasoning ;  the  term  Judgment  being  left  to  express 
the  simple  act  of  comparison,  or  rather  its  result. 

If  this  distinction  between  Judgment  and  Reasoning  were 
merely  a  verbal  difference,  to  discriminate  the  simpler  and  more 
complex  act  of  comparison,  no  objection  could  be  raised  to  it  on 
the  score  of  propriety,  and  its  convenience  would  fully  warrant 
its  estabUshment.  But  this  distinction  has  not  always  been 
meant  to  express  nothing  more.  It  has,  in  fact,  been  generally 
supposed  to  mark  out  two  distinct  faculties. 

Two  hinds  of  Reasoning.  —  Reasoning  is  either  from  the 
whole  to  its  parts ;  or  from  all  the  parts,  discretively,  to  the 
whole  they  constitute,  collectively.  The  former  of  these  is  De- 
ductive, the  latter  is  Inductive,  Reasoning.  The  statement  you 
will  find,  in  all  logical  books,  of  reasonings  from  certain  parts  to 
•the  whole,  or  from  certain  parts  to  certain  parts,  is  erroneous. 
I  shall  first  speak  of  the  reasoning  from  the  whole  to  its  parts, — 
or  of  the  Deductive  Inference. 

Axiom  of  Deductive  Reasoning.  —  1°,  It  is  self-evident,  that 
whatever  is  the  part  of  a  part,  is  a  part  of  the  whole.  Tliis  one 
axiom  is  the  foundation  of  all  reasoning  from  the  whole  to  the 
parts.  There  are,  however,  two  kinds  of  whole  and  parts  ;  and 
these  constitute  two  varieties,  or  rather  two  phases,  of  deductive 
reasoning.  This  distinction,  which  is  of  the  most  important 
kind,  has  nevertheless  been  wholly  overlooked  by  logicians,  in 
consequence  of  which  the  utmost  perplexity  and  confusion  have 
been  introduced  into  the  science. 

I  have  formerly  stated  that  a  proposition  consists  of  two 
tei-ms,  —  the  one  called  subject,  the  other  predicate,  the  subject 
being  that  of  which  some  attribute  is  said,  the  predicate  being 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING.  493 

the  attribute  so  said.  Now,  in  different  relations,  we  may  re- 
gard the  subject  as  the  whole,  and  the  predicate  as  its  part,  or 
the  predicate  as  the  whole  and  the  subject  as  its  part. 

Let  us  take  the  proposition,  --  7nilk  is  white.  Now,  here  we 
may  either  consider  the  predicate  white  as  one  of  a  number  of 
attributes,  the  whole  complement  of  which  constitutes  the  sub- 
ject  7721/^'.  In  this  point  of  view,  the  predicate  is  a  part  of  the 
subject.  Or,  again,  we  may  consider  the  predicate  white  as  the 
name  of  a  class  of  objects,  of  which  the  subject  is  one.  In  this 
pomt  of  view,  the  subject  is  a  part  of  the  predicate. 

Comprehension  and  Extension  applied  to  Reasoning.  — Yon 
will  remember  the  distinction,  which  I  formerly  stated,  of  the 
twofold  quantity  of  notions  or  terms.     The  Breadth  or  Exten- 
sion of  a  notion  or  term  corresponds  to  the  greater  number  of 
subjects  contained  under  a  predicate ;  the  Depth,  Intension,  or 
Comprehension  of  a  notion  or  term,  to  the  greater  number  of 
predicates  contained  in  a  subject.     These  quantities  or  wholes 
are  always  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.     Now,  it  is  sin- 
gular, that  logicians  should  have  taken  this  distinction  between 
notions,  and  yet  not  have  thought  of  applying  it  to  reasoning. 
iiut  so  It  IS,  and  this  is  not  the  only  oversight  they  have  com- 
mitted in  the  application  of  the  very  primary  principles  of  their 
science.     The  great  distinction  we  have  estabhshed  between  the 
subject  and  predicate  considered  severally,  as,  in  different  rela- 
tions, whole  and  as  part,  constitutes  the  primary  and  principal 
division  of  Syllogisms,  both  Deductive  and  Liductive ;  and  its 
introduction  wipes  off  a  complex  mass  of  rules  and  qualifications, 
which  the  want  of  it  rendered  necessary.     I  can,  of  course,  at 
present,  only  explain  in  general  the  nature  of  this  distinction  ; 
Its  details  belong  to  the  science  of  the  Laivs  of  Thought,  or 
Logic,  of  which  we  are  not  here  to  treat. 

Essential  and  Integral  wholes.  — 1  shall  first  consider  the 
process  of  that  Deductive  Inference  in  which  the  subject  is 
viewed  as  the  whole,  the  predicate  as  the  part.  In  this  reason- 
ing, the  whole  is  detennined  by  the  Comprehension,  and  is, 
again,  either  a  Physical  or  Essential  whole,  or  an  Integral  or 
Mathematical  whole.     A  Physical  or  Essential  whole  is  that 

24 


494 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


which  consists  of  not  really  separable  parts,  of  or  pertaining  to 
its  substance.  Thus,  man  is  made  up  of  two  substantial  parts,  — 
a  mind  and  a  body ;  and  each  of  these  has  again  various  quali- 
ties, w^hicli,  though'  separable  only  by  mental  abstraction,  are 
considered  as  so  many  parts  of  an  essential  whole.  Thus,  the 
attributes  of  respiration,  of  digestion,  of  locomotion,  of  color,  are 
so  many  parts  of  the  whole  notion  we  have  of  the  human  body ; 
cognition,  feeling,  desire,  virtue,  vice,  etc.,  so  many  parts  of  the 
whole  notion  we  have  of  man.  A  Mathematical,  or  Integral,  or 
Quantitative  whole  is  that  which  has  part  out  of  part,  and 
which,  therefore,  can  be  really  partitioned.  The  Integral  or, 
as  it  ought  to  be  called.  Integrate  whole,  is  composed  of  inte- 
grant parts  w^hich  are  either  homogeneous  or  heterogeneous. 
An  example  of  the  former  is  given  in  the  division  of  a  square 
into  two  triangles ;  of  the  latter,  of  the  animal  body  into  head, 
trunk,  extremities,  etc. 

These  wholes  (and  there  are  others  of  less  importance 
which  I  omit),  are  varieties  of  that  whole  which  we  may  call  a 
Comprehensive,  or  Metaphysical ;  it  might  be  called  a  Natural, 
whole. 

Reasoning  in  the  whole  of  Comprehension.  —  This  being  un- 
derstood, let  us  consider  how  w^e  proceed  when  we  reason  from 
the  relation  between  a  Comprehensive  whole  and  its  parts. 
Here,  as  I  have  said,  the  subject  is  the  whole,  the  predicate  its 
part ;  in  other  words,  the  predicate  belongs  to  the  subject. 
Now  here  it  is  evident,  tliat  all  the  parts  of  the  predicate  must 
also  be  parts  of  the  subject ;  in  other  terms,  all  that  belongs  to 
the  predicate  must  also  belong  to  the  subject.  In  the  words  of 
the  scholastic  adage,  —  Nota  notce  est  nota  rei  ipsiiis  ;  Predi- 
catum  predicati  est  predicatiun  suhjecti.     An  example  of  this 


reasonmg : 


Europe  contains  England ; 

England  contains  Middlesex ; 

Therefore,  Europe  contains  Middlesex. 

In  other  words,  England  is  an  integrant  part  of  Europe  ; 
Middlesex  is  an  integrant  part  of  England ;  therefore,  Middle- 
sex is  an  integrant  part  of  Europe.  This  is  an  example  from  a 
mathematical  whole  and  parts.     Again  : 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


495 


Socrates  is  just  (that  is,  Socrates  contains  justice  as  a  qual- 
ify) ; 

Justice  is  a  virtue  (that  is,  justice  contains  virtue  as  a  con- 
stituent part)  ; 

Therefore,  Socrates  is  virtuous. 

In  other  words  ;  —justice  is  an  attribute  or  essentiSl  part  of 
Socrates ;  virtue  is  an  attribute  or  essential  part  of  justice ; 
therefore,  virtue  is  an  attribute  or  essential  part  of  Socrates! 
This  is  an  example  from  a  physical  or  essential  whole  and 
parts. 

What  I  have  now  said  will  be  enough  to  show,  in  general, 
what  I  mean  by  a  deductive  reasoning,  in  which  the  subject  is 
the  whole,  the  predicate  the  part. 

Reasoning  in  the  whole  of  Extension.  — 1  proceei\  in  the  sec- 
ond place,  to  the  other  kind  of  Deductive  Reasoning,  —  that  in 
which  the  subject  is  the  part,  the  predicate  is  the  whole.  This 
reasoning  proceeds  under  that  species  of  whole  which  has  been 
called  the  Logical,  or  Potential,  or  Universal.  This  whole  is 
determined  by  the  Extension  of  a  notion ;  the  genera  having 
species,  and  the  species  individuals,  as  their  parts.  Thus,  ant 
mal  is  a  universal  whole,  of  which  bird  and  beast  are  immedi- 
ate, eagle  and  sparrow,  dog  and  horse,  mediate,  parts;  while 
man,  which,  in  relation  to  animal,  is  a  part,  is  a  whole  in  rela- 
tion to  Peter,  Paul,  Socrates,  etc.  The  parts  of  a  logical  or 
universal  whole,  I  should  notice,  are  called  the  sulject  parts. 

From  wliat  you  now  know  of  the  nature  of  generalization, 
you  are  aware,  that  general  terms  are  terms  expressive  of  attri- 
butes which  may  be  predicated  of  many  different  objects ;  and 
inasmuch  as  these  objects  resemble  each  other  in  the  common 
attribute,  they  are  considered  by  us  as  constituting  a  class. 
Thus,  when  I  say,  that  a  horse  is  a  quadruped ;  Bucephalus  is 
a  horse;  therefore,  Bucephalus  is  a  quadruped;  — I  virtually 
say,  — ^ors^,  the  subject,  is  a  part  of  the  predicate  quadruped; 
Bucephalus,  the  subject,  is  part  of  the  predicate  horse  ;  there- 
fore, Bucephalus,  the  subject,  is  part  of  the  predicate  quadruped. 
In  the  reasoning  under  this  whole,  you  will  observe  that  the 
same  word,  as  it  is  whole  or  part,  changes  from  predicate  to 


496 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


subject ;  horse,  when  viewed  as  a  part  of  quadruped,  being  the 
subject  of  the  proposition ;  whereas  when  viewed  as  a  whole, 
containing  Bucephalus,  it  becomes  the  predicate. 

Axiom  of  Inductive  Reasoning.  —  Such  is  a  general  view  of 
the  process  of  Deductive  Reasoning  under  the  two  great  varie- 
ties determined  by  the  two  different  kinds  of  whole  and  parts. 
I  now  proceed  to  the  counter  process,  —  that  of  Inductive 
Reasoning.  The  Deductive  is  founded  on  the  axiom,  that  what 
is  part  of  the  part,  is  also  part  of  the  containing  whole  ;  the  In- 
ductive on  the  principle,  that  what  is  true  of  every  constituent 
part  belongs,  or  does  not  belong,  to  the  constituted  whole. 

Induction  proceeds  in  the  two  wholes.  —  Induction,  like  Deduc- 
tion, may  be  divided  into  two  kinds,  according  as  the  whole 
and  parts  about  which  it  is  conversant,  are  a  Comprehensive  or 
Physical  or  Natural,  or  an  Extensive  or  Logical  whole.  Thus, 
in  the  former : 

Gold  is  a  metal,  yellow,  ductile,  fusible  in  aqua  regia,  of  a 
certain  specific  gravity,  and  so  on ; 

These  quahties  constitute  this  body  (are  all  its  parts)  ; 
Therefore  this  body  is  gold. 

In  the  latter  ;  —  Ox,  horse,  dog,  etc.,  are  animals,  —  that  is, 
are  contained  under  the  class  animal ; 

Ox,  horse,  dog,  etc.,  constitute  (are  all  the  constituents  of) 
the  class  quadruped ; 

Therefore,  quadruped  is  contained  under  animal. 
Both  in  the  Deductive  and  Inductive  processes,  the  inference 
must  he  of  an  absolute  necessity,  in  so  far  as  the  mental  illation 
is  concerned;  that  is,  every  consequent  proposition  must  be 
evolved  out  of  every  antecedent  proposition  with  intuitive  evi- 
dence. I  do  not  mean  by  this,  that  the  antecedent  should  be 
necessarily  true,  or  that  the  consequent  be  really  contained  in 
it ;  it  is  sufficient  that  the  antecedent  be  assumed  as  true,  and 
that  the  consequent  be,  in  conformity  to  the  laws  of  thought, 
evolved  out  of  it  as  its  part  or  its  equation.  Tliis  last  is  called 
Logical  or  Formal  or  Subjective  truth ;  and  an  inference  may 
be  subjectively  or  formally  true,  which  is  objectively  or  really 
false. 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


497 


The  account  given  of  Induction  in  all  works  of  Logic  is  ut- 
terly erroneous.  Sometimes  we  find  this  inference  described 
as  a  precarious,  not  a  necessary  reasoning.  It  is  called  an  illa- 
tion from  some  to  all.  But  here  the  some,  as  it  neither  contains 
nor  constitutes  the  all,  determines  no  necessary  movement,  and 
a  conclusion  drawn  under  these  circumstances  is  logically 
vicious.     Others  again  describe  the  Inductive  process  thus : 

What  belongs  to  some  objects  of  a  class  belongs  to  the  whole 
class ; 

This  property  belongs  to  some  objects  of  the  class ; 
Therefore,  it  belongs  to  the  whole  class. 
This  account  of  Induction,  which  is  the  one  you  will  find  in 
all  the  English  works  on  Logic,  is  not  an  inductive  reasoning  at 
all.  It  is,  logically  considered,  a  deductive  syllogism ;  and,  log- 
ically considered,  a  syllogism  radically  vicious.  It  is  logically 
vicious  to  say,  that,  because  some  individuals  of  a  class  have 
certain  common  qualities  apart  from  that  property  which  consti- 
tutes the  class  itself,  therefore  the  whole  individuals  of  the  class 
should  partake  in  these  qualities.  For  this  there  is  no  logical 
reason, —  no  necessity  of  thought.  The  probability  of  this  in- 
ference, and  it  is  only  probable,  is  founded  on  the  observation 
of  the  analogy  of  nature,  and,  therefore,  not  upon  the  laws  of 
thought  by  which  alone  reasoning,  considered  as  a  logical  pro- 
cess, is  exclusively  governed.  To  become  a  formally  legitimate 
induction,  the  objective  probability  must  be  clothed  with  a  sub- 
jective necessity,  and  the  some  must  be  translated  mto  the  all 
which  it  is  supposed  to  represent. 

In  the  deductive  syllogism  we  proceed  by  analysis,  —  that  is, 
by  decomposing  a  whole  into  its  parts ;  but  as  the  two  wholes 
with  which  reasoning  is  conversant  are  in  the  inverse  ratio  of 
each  other,  so  our  analysis  in  the  one  will  correspond  to  our  syn- 
thesis in  the  other.  For  example,  when  I  divide  a  whole  of  ex- 
tension into  its  parts,  —  wlien  I  divide  a  genus  into  the  species, 
a  species  into  the  individuals  it  contains,  —  I  do  so  by  adding 
new  differences,  and  thus  go  on  accumulating  in  the  parts  a 
complement  of  qualities  wliich  did  not  belong  to  the  wholes. 
This,  tlierefore,  whicli,  in  point  of  extension,  is  an  analysis,  is. 


i 


498 


JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 


in  point  of  comprehension,  a  synthesis.  In  like  manner,  when 
I  decompose  a  whole  of  comprehension,  that  is,  decompose  a 
complex  predicate  into  its  constituent  attributes,  I  obtain  by  this 
process  a  sim|)ler  and  more  general  quality,  and  thus  this, 
which,  in  relation  to  a  compreliensive  whole,  is  an  analysis,  is, 
in  relation  to  an  extensive  whole,  a  synthesis.  As  the  deduc- 
tive inference  is  Analytic,  the  inductive  is  Synthetic.  But  as 
induction,  equally  as  deduction,  is  conversant  \Wth  both  wholes, 
so  the  Synthesis  of  induction  on  the  comprehensive  whole  is  a 
reversed  process  to  its  synthesis  on  the  extensive  whole. 

From  what  I  have  now  stated,  you  will,  therefore,  be  aware, 
that  the  terras  analysis  and  synthesis,  when  used  without  quali- 
fication, may  be  employed  at  cross  purposes,  to  denote  opera- 
tions precisely  the  converse  of  each  other.  And  so  it  has 
happened.  Analysis,  in  the  mouth  of  one  set  of  philosophers, 
means  precisely  what  synthesis  denotes  in  the  mouth  of  an- 
other; nay,  what  is  even  still  more  frequent,  these  words  are 
perpetually  converted  with  each  other  by  the  same  philosopher. 
I  may  notice,  what  has  rarely,  if  ever;  been  remarked,  that  syn- 
thesis in  the  writings  of  the  Greek  logicians  is  equivalent  to  the 
analysis  of  modern  philosophers :  the  former,  regarding  the  ex- 
tensive whole  as  the  principal,  applied  analysis,  xar'  i$o/^i',  to 
its  division ;  tlie  latter,  viewing  the  comprehensive  whole  as  the 
principal,  in  general  limit  analysis  to  its  decomposition.  This, 
however,  has  been  overlooked,  and  a  confusion  the  most  inextri- 
cable prevails  in  regard  to  the  use  of  these  words,  if  the  thread 
to  the  labyrinth  is  not  obtained. 


CHAPTER    XXYII. 

THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY.  — THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE 

CONDITIONED. 


I  NOW  enter  upon  the  last  of  the  Cognitive  Faculties,  —  the 
faculty  which  I  denominated  the  Regulative.  Here  the  term 
facidty,  you  will  observe,  is  employed  in  a  somewhat  peculiar 
signification,  for  it  is  employed  not  to  denote  the  proximate 
cause  of  any  definite  energy,  but  the  power  the  mind  has  of 
being  the  native  source  of  certain  necessary  or  a  priori  cogni- 
tions ;  which  cognitions,  as  they  are  the  conditions,  the  forms, 
under  which  our  knowledge  in  general  is  possible,  constitute  so 
many  fundamental  laws  of  intellectual  nature.  It  is  in  this 
sense  that  I  call  the  power  which  the  mind  possesses  of  modify- 
ing the  knowledge  it  receives,  in  conformity  to  its  proper  nature, 
its  Regulative  Faculty.  The  Regulative  Faculty  is,  however, 
in  fact,  nothing  more  than  the  complement  of  such  laws  ;  —  it  is 
the  locus  principiorum.  It  thus  corresponds  to  what  was  known 
in  the  Greek  philosophy  under  the  name  of  vovg,  when  that 
term  was  rigorously  used.  To  this  faculty  has  been  latterly 
applied  the  name  Reason  ;  but  this  term  is  so  vague  and  am- 
biguous, that  it  is  almost  unfitted  to  convey  any  definite  mean- 


ing. 


Proper  use  of  the  term  Common  Sense.  —  The  term  Common 
Sense  has  likewise  been  applied  to  designate  the  place  of  prin- 
ciples. This  word  is  also  ambiguous.  In  tlie^rs^  place,  it  was 
the  expression  used  in  the  Aristotelic  philosophy  to  denote  the 
Central  or  Common  Sensory,  in  which  the  different  exteriial 
senses  7net  and  were  united.  In  the  second  place,  it  was  em- 
ployed to  signify  a  sound  understanding  applied  to  vulgar  ob- 

(499) 


500  THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  COMMON  SENSE. 

jects,  in  contrast  to  a  scientific  or  speculative  intelligence  ;  and  it 
is  in  this  signification  that  it  has  been  taken  by  those  who  have 
derided  the  principle  on  which  the  philosophy,  which  has  been 
distinctively  denominated   the  Scottish,  professes  to   be  estab- 
lished.    This  is  not,  however,  the  meaning  which  has  always,  or 
even   principally,  been  attached   to  it ;   and  an  incomparably 
stronger  case  might  be  made  out  in  defence  of  this  expression 
than  has  been  done  by  Rcid,  or  even  by  Mr.  Stewart.     It  is,  in 
fact,  a  term  of  high  antiquity  and   very  general  accepUition. 
We  find  it  in  Cicero,  in  several  passages  not  hitherto  observed. 
It  is  found  in  the  meaning  in  question  in  Phoedrus,  and  not  in 
the  signification  of  community  of  sentiment,  which  it  expresses 
in  Horace  and  Juvenal.     And  in  the  same  meaning  the  tei-m 
Sensus   Communis  is  employed  by  St.  Augustin.     In  modem 
times,  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  philosophical  writmgs  of  every 
country  of  Europe.     In  fact,  so  far  as  use  and  wont  may  be 
allowed  to  weigh,  there  is  perhaps  no  philosophical  expression 
in  support  of  which  a  more  numerous  array  of  authorities  may 
be  alleged.     The  expression,  however,  is  certainly  exceptiona- 
ble, and  it  can  only  claim  toleration  in  the  absence  of  a  better. 

i  may  notice  that  Pascal  and  Hemsterhuis  have  applied  Intu- 
ition and  Sentiment  in  this  sense ;  and  Jacobi  originally  em- 
ployed  Belief  or  Faith  in  the  same  way,  though  he  latterly 
superseded  this  expression  by  that  of  Reason. 

[Our  cognitions,  it  is  evident,  are  not  all  at  second  hand. 
Consequent"  cannot,  by  an  infinite  regress,  be  evolved  out  of  an- 
tecedents,  which  are  themselves  only  consequents.  Demonstra- 
tion, if  proof  be  possible,  behooves  us  to  repose  at  last  on  proposi- 
tions, which,  carrying  their  own  evidence,  necessitate  their  own 
admission  ;  and  which  being,  as  primary,  inexphcable,  as  inex- 
plicable, incomprehensible,  must  consequently  manifest  them- 
selves less  in  the  cliaracter  of  cognitions  than  o^ facts,  of  which 
consciousness  assures  us  under  the  simple  form  of  feeling  or 

belie  f» 

Without  at  present  attempting  to  determine  the  character, 
number,  and  relations  —  waiving,  in  short,  all  attempt  at  an 
articulate  analysis  and  classification,  of  the  primary  elements  of 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  COMMON  SENSE. 


501 


cognition,  as  carrying  us  into  a  discussion  beyond  our  limits,  and" 
not  of  indispensable  importance  for  the  end  we  have  in  view ; 
it  is  sufficient  to  have  it  conceded,  in  general,  that  such  elements 
there  are  ;  and  this  concession  of  their  existence  being  supposed, 
I  shall  proceed  to  hazard  some  observations,  principally  in  re- 
gard to  their  authority  as  warrants  and  criteria  of  truth.  Nor 
can  this  assumption,  of  the  existence  of  some  original  basis  of 
knowledge  in  the  mind  itself,  be  refused  by  any.  For  even 
tho^e  pliilosophers  who  profess  to  derive  all  our  knowledge  from 
experience,  and  who  admit  no  universal  truths  of  intelligence 

but  such  as  are  generahzed  from  individual  truths  of  fact 

even  these  philosophers  are  forced  virtually  to  acknowledge,  at 
the  root  of  the  several  acts  of  observation  from  which  their  gen- 
eralization starts,  some  law  or  principle  to  which  they  can 
appeal  as  guaranteeing  the  procedure,  should  the  validity  of 
these  primordial  acts  themselves  be  called  in  question.  This 
acknowledgment  is,  among  others,  made  jeven  by  Locke;  and 
on  such  fundamental  guarantee  of  induction  he  even  bestows 
the  name  of  Common  Sense. 

Limiting,  therefore,  our  consideration  to  the  question  of  au- 
thority ;  how,  it  is  asked,  do  these  primary  propositions  —  these 
cognitions  at  first  hand  —  these  fundamental  facts,  feehngs,  be- 
liefs, certify  us  of  their  own  veracity  ?  To  this  the  only  possible 
answer  is  —  that  as  elements  of  our  mental  constitution — as 
the  essential  conditions  of  our  knowledge  —  they  must  by  us  be 
accepted  as  true.  To  suppose  their  falsehood,  is  to  suppose  that 
we  are  created  capable  of  intelligence,  in  order  to  be  made  the 
victims  of  delusion ;  that  God  is  a  deceiver,  and  the  root  of  our 
nature  a  lie.  But  such  a  supposition,  if  gratuitous,  is  manifestly 
illegitimate.  For,  on  the  contrary,  the  data  of  our  original  con- 
sciousness must,  it  is  evident,  in  the  first  instance,  be  presumed 
true.  It  is  only,  if  proved  folse,  that  their  authority  can,  iii 
consequence  of  that  proof  be,  in  the  second  instance,  disallowed. 
Speaking,  therefore,  generally,  to  argue  from  Common  Sense  is 
simply  to  show,  that  the  denial  of  a  given  proposition  would 
involve  the  denial  of  some  original  datum  of  consciousness  ;  hut 
as  every  original  datum  of  consciousness  is  to  be  presumed  triie, 


502 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  COMMON  SENSE. 


that  the  proposition  in  question,  as  dependent  on  such  a  principle, 
7nust  be  admitted. 

Though  the  argument  from  Common  Sense  be  an  appeal  to 
the  natural  convictions  of  mankind,  it  is  not  an  appeal  from 
philosophy  to  bUnd  feeling.  It  is  only  an  appeal,  from  the 
heretical  conclusions  of  particular  philosophies,  to  the  catholic 
principles  of  all  philosophy.  The  prejudice  which,  on  this  sup- 
position, has  sometimes  been  excited  against  the  argument,  is 
groundless. 

Nor  is  it  true,  that  the  argument  from  Common  Sense  denies 
the  decision  to  the  judgment  of  philosophers,  and  accords  it  to 
the  verdict  of  the  vulgar.  Nothing  can  be  more  erroneous. 
We  admit  —  nay  we  maintain,  as  D'Alembert  well  expresses 
it,  "  that  the  truth  in  metaphysic,  like  the  truth  in  matters  of 
taste,  is  a  truth  of  wliich  all  minds  have  the  germ  within  them- 
selves;, to  which,  indeed,  the  greater  number  pay  no  attention, 
but  which  they  recognize  the  moment  it  is  pointed  out  to  them. 
.  .  .  But  if,  in  this  sort,  all  are  able  to  understand,  all  are  not 
able  to  instruct.  The  merit  of  conveying  easily  to  others  true 
and  simple  notions,  is  much  greater  than  is  commonly  supposed ; 
for  experience  proves  how  rarely  this  is  to  be  met  with.  Sound 
metaphysical  ideas  are  common  truths,  which  every  one  appre- 
hends, but  which  few  have  the  talent  to  develop.  So  difficult  is 
it  on  any  subject  to  make  our  own  what  belongs  to  every  one." 
Or,  to  employ  the  words  of  the  ingenious  Lichtenberg,  "  Philoso- 
phy, twist  the  matter  as  we  may,  is  always  a  sort  of  chemistry. 
The  peasant  employs  all  the  principles  of  abstract  philosophy, 
only  inveloped,  latent^  engaged,  as  the  men  of  physical  science 
express  it ;  the  Philosopher  exhibits  the  pure  principle." 

The  first  problem  of  Philosophy  —  and  it  is  one  of  no  easy 
accomplishment  —  being  thus  to  seek  out,  purify,  and  establish, 
by  intellectual  analysis  and  criticism,  the  elementary  feelings 
or  beliefs,  in  which  are  given  the  elementary  truths  of  which 
all  are  in  possession ;  and  the  argument  from  Common  Sense 
being  the  allegation  of  these  feeUngs  or  beliefs  as  explicated 
and  ascertiiined,  in  proof  of  the  relative  truths  and  their  neces- 
sary consequences  ;  —  this  argument  is  manifestly  dependent  on 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


503 


philosophy,  as  an  art,  as  an  acquired  dexterity,  and  cannot,  not- 
withstanding the  errors  wliich  they  have  so  frequently  com- 
mitted, be  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  philosophers.  Common 
Sense  is  like  Common  Law.  Each  may  be  laid  down  as  the 
general  rule  of  decision ;  but  m  the  one  case,  it  must  be  left  to 
the  jurist,  in  the  other,  to  the  philosopher,  to  ascertain  what  are 
the  contents  of  the  rule  ;  and  though,  in  both  instances,  the  com- 
mon man  may  be  cited  as  a  witness  for  the  custom  or  the  fact, 
in  neither  can  he  be  allowed  to  officiate  as  advocate  or  as  judge. 

It  must  be  recollected,  also,  that  in  appealing  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  mankind  in  general,  we  only  appeal  to  tlie  consciousness 
of  those  not  disqualified  to  pronounce  a  decision.  "  In  saying," 
(to  use  the  words  of  Aristotle),  "  simply  and  without  qualifica- 
tion, that  this  or  that  is  a  known  truth,  we  do  not  mean  that  it 
is  in  fact  recognized  by  all,  but  only  by  such  as  are  of  sound 
understanding;  just  as  in  saying  absolutely  that  a  thing  is 
wholesome,  we  must  be  held  to  mean,  to  such  as  are  of  a  hale 
constitution."  We  may,  in  short,  say  of  the  true  philosopher 
what  Erasmus,  in  an  epistle  to  Hutten,  said  of  Sir  Thomas 
More  :  —  "  Nemo  minus  ducitur  vulgi  judicio  ;  sed  rursus  nemo 
minus  abest  a  sensu  communi."^  —  JJiss.  supp.  to  Reid, 

Nomenclature  of  the  Regulative  Faculty.  —  Were  it  allowed 
in  metapliysical  philosophy,  as  in  physical,  to  discriminate  sci- 
entific differences  by  scientific  terms,  I  would  employ  the  word 
noetic,  as  derived  from  vovg,  to  express  all  those  cognitions 
that  originate  in  the  mind  itself,  dianoetic  to  denote  the  opera- 
tions of  the  Discursive,  Elaborative,  or  Comparative  Faculty. 
So  much  for  the  nomenclature  of  the  faculty  itself. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  cognitions  themselves,  of  which  it  is 
the  source,  have  obtained  various  appellations.  They  have 
been  denominated //-^^  jonwcip/es,*  common  anticipations,  prin- 

*  [Without  enterino^  on  the  various  meanings  of  tlie  term  Principle,  which 
Aristotle  defines,  in  general,  that  from  ichence  any  thing  exists,  is  produced,  or 
is  known,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  it  is  always  used  for  that  on  which  some- 
thing else  depends ;  and  thus  both  for  an  origi»iaI  law  and  for  an  original 
element.  In  the  former  case  it  is  rerjidative,  m  the  latter  a  constitutive,  prin- 
ciple ;  and  in  either  signification,  it  may  be  very  properly  applied  to  our 
original  cognitions.]  —  Diss.  supp.  to  Beid. 


504 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


ciples  of  common  sense,  self-evident  or  intuitive*  truths,  primitive 
notions,  native  notions,  innate  cognitions,  yiatural  knowledges 
{cognitions),  fundamental  reasons,  metaphysical  or  transcendental 
truths,  ultimate  or  elemental  laws  of  thought,  primary  or  funda- 
mental laws  of  human  belief  or  primary  laws  of  human  reason,'^ 


*  [The  terra  Intuition  is  not  unambiguous.  Besides  its  original  and 
proper  meaning  (as  a  visual  perception),  it  has  been  employed  to  denote  a 
kind  of  apprehension  and  a  kind  of  judgment. 

Under  the  former  head,  Intuition,  or  intuitive  knowledge,  has  been  used 
in  the  following  significations  : 

a.  —  To  denote  a  perception  of  the  actual  and  present,  in  opposition  to 
the  "  abstractive  "  knowledge  which  we  have  of  the  possible  in  imagination, 
and  of  the  past  in  memory. 

b.  —  To  denote  an  immediate  apprehension  of  a  thing  in  itself,  in  contrast 
to  a  representative,  vicai'ious,  or  mediate,  apprehension  of  it,  in  or  through 
something  else. 

c.  —  To  denote  the  knowledge  which  we  can  adequately  represent  in  im- 
agination, in  contradistinction  to  the  "  symbolical "  knowledge  which  we 
cannot  image,  but  only  think  or  conceive,  through  and  under  a  sign  or 

word.  , 

Under  the  latter  head,  it  has  only  a  single  signification  ;  namely : 
To  denote  the  immediate  afiirmation  by  the  intellect,  that  the  predicate 
does  or  docs  not  pertain  to  the  subject,  in  what  are  called  self-evident  prop- 
ositions. 

All  these  meanings,  however,  have  this  in  common,  that  they  express  the 
condition  of  an  immediate,  in  opposition  to  a  mediate  knowledge.]  —  Diss, 
supp.  to  Reid. 

t  [Reason  is  a  very  vague,  vacillating,  and  equivocal  word.  Throwing 
aside  various  accidental  significations  which  it  has  obtained  in  particular 
languages,  as  in  Greek  denoting  not  only  the  ratio,  but  the  oratio,  of  the 
Latins ;  throwing  aside  its  employment,  in  most  languages,  for  cause,  mo- 
tive, argument,  principle  of  prolmtion,  or  middle  term  of  a  syllogism,  and  con- 
sidering it  only  as  a  philosophical  word  denoting  a  faculty  or  comple- 
ment of  faculties ;  in  tliis  relation,  it  is  found  employed  in  the  following 
meaning . 

It  has,  both  in  ancient  and  modern  times,  been  very  commonly  employed, 
like  understanding  and  intellect,  to  denote  our  intelligent  nature  in  general; 
and  this  usually  as  distinguished  from  the  lower  cognitive  foculties,  as 
Sense,  Imagination,  Memory  —  but  always,  and  emphatically,  as  in  con- 
trast to  the  Feelings  and  D(ilires.  In  this  signification,  to  follow  the  Aris- 
totclic  division,  it  comprehends  —  1°,  Conception  or  Simple  Apprehension  ; 
2^,  the  Comix^itive  and  Divisive  process,  Affirmation  and  Negation,  Judgment ; 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


505 


pure  or  transcendental*  or  a  priori  cognitions,  categories  of 
thought,  natural  beliefs,  rational  instincts,  f  etc. 

30  /2ea^n.y  or  the  Discursive  faculty ;  40,  Intellect  or  Meincjence  pn>pcr 
either  as  the  mtuition,  or  as  the  place,  of  principles  or  self-evident  truL' 
.  In  modern  times,  though  we  frequently  meet  with  Reason,  as  a  general 
faculty,  distrngmshcd  from  Reasoning,  as  a  particular;  yet  until  Kant  I 
am  not  aware  that  Reason  (Vernunft)  was  ever  exclusively,  or  even  em- 
phatically, used  in  a  signification  corresponding  to  the  noetic  faculty,  in  its 
strict  and  special  meaning,  and  opposed  to  understanding  ( Verstand),  viewed 
as  comi)rchending  the  other  functions  of  thou-ht  h  ^ 

to^p"^'' ^'"'7''  ^'"''  ^'  "^'  therefore ''opposed  to  Reason,  still  the 
term  Reason  is  of  so  general  and  ambiguous  an  import,  that  its  employment 
m  so  determinate  a  meaning  as  a  synonym  of  Common  Sense  ought  to  be 
avoided  It  IS  only,  we  have  seen,  as  an  expression  for  the  noetic  faculty 
or  Intellect  proper,  that  Reason  can  be  substituted  for  Common  Sense.1- 
Diss.  supp.  to  Reid.  ^ 

*  [In  the  Schools,  transcendentalis  and  transcendens  were  convertible  ex- 
pressions,  employed  to  mark  a  term  or  notion  which  transcended,  that  is, 
which  rose  above  and  thus  contained  under  it,  the  Categories,  or  summa 
genera,  of  Aristotle.     Such,  for  example,  is  Being,  of  which  the  ten  cate- 
gones  are  only  subdivisions.     Kant,  according  to  his  wonr,  twisted  these 
old  terms  into  a  new  signification.     First  of  all,  he  distinguished  them  from 
each  other.     Transcendent  he  employed  to  denote  what  is  whollv  beyond 
experience,  being  given  neither  as  an  a  posteriori  t^ot  a  priori  element  of 
cognition -what  thercfoi-e  transcends  every  category  of  thought.     Tran- 
scardental  he  applied  to  signify  the  a  priori  or  necessary  cognitions  which, 
hough  manifested  in,  as  afibrding  the  conditions  of.  experience,  transcend 
the  sphere  of  that  contingent  or  adventitious  knowledge  which  we  acquire 
by  experience.     Transcendental  is  not  therefore  what  transcends,  but  what 
mfact  constitutes,  a  category  of  thought.]  -  Ass.  supp.  to  Reid. 
T  [Instincts,  rational  or  intellectual. 

These  terms  are  intended  to  express  not  so  mucli  the  light,  as  the  dark 
side  which  the  elementary  facts  of  consciousness  exhibit.     Tliey  therefore 
stand  opposed  to  the  conceivable,  the  understood,  the  knoAvn 

As  to  the  impropriety,  though,  like  most  other  psychological  terms,  these 
are  not  unexceptionable,  they  are  liowever  less  so  than  many,  nay  than 
most,  others.  An  Instinct  is  an  agent  which  performs  blindly  and  igno- 
rantly  a  work  of  intelligence  and  knowledge.  The  terms,  InstincHi!:  be- 
lief- judgment -co^jnition  are  therefore  expressions  not  ill  adapted  to  char- 
actenze  a  belief,  judgment,  cognition,  which,  as  the  result  of  no  anterior 
consciousness,  is,  like  the  products  of  animal  instinct,  the  intelligent  effect 
of  (as  far  as  we  are  concerned)  an  unknowing  cause.  In  like  manner  we 
can  hardly  find  more  suitable  expressions  to  indicate  those  incomprehcnsi- 


506 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


Criterion  for  distinguishing  Native  from  Adventitious  Knowl- 
edge.—  1?he   history  of  opinions   touching  the  acceptation,  or 
rejection,  of  such  native  notions,  is,  in  a  manner,  the  history  of 
philosophy :  for  as  the  one  alternative,  or  the  other,  is  adopted 
in  this  question,  the  cliaracter  of  a  system  is  determined.     At 
present,  I  content  myself  with  stating,  that,  though   from  the' 
earliest  period  of  philosophy,  the  doctrine  was  always  common, 
if  not  always  predominant,  that  our  knowledge  originated,  in 
part  at  least,  in  the  mind,  yet  it  was  only  at  a  very  recent  date 
that  the  criterion  was  explicitly  enounced,  by  which  the  native 
may  be  discriminated  from  the  adventitious  elements  of  knowl- 
edge.    Without   touching   on   some  ambiguous  expressions   in 
more  ancient  philosophers,  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  the  char- 
acter of  universaUty  and  necessity,  as  the  quality  by  which  the 
two  classes  of  knowledge  are  distinguished,  was  first  explicitly 
proclaimed  by  Leibnitz.    I  have  already  frequently  had  occasion 
incidentally  to  notice,  that  we  should  carefully  distinguish  be- 
tween those  notions  or  cognitions  which  are  primitive  facts,  and 
those  notions  or  cognitions  which  are  generahzed  or  derivative 
facts.     The  former  are  given  us ;  they  are  not,  indeed,  obtru- 
sive, —  they  are  not  even  cognizable  of  themselves.     They  lie 
hid  in  the  profundities  of  the  mind,  until  drawn  from   their 
obscurity  by  the  mental  activity  itself  employed  upon  the  mate- 
rials of  experience.     Hence  it  is,  that  our  knowledge  has  its 
commencement  in  sense,  external  or  internal,  but  its  origin  in 
intellect.     The  latter,  the  derivative  cognitions,  are  of  our  own 
fabrication;  we   form  them  after  certain    rules;  they  are   the 
tardy  result  of  Perception  and  Memory,  of  Attention,  Reflection, 
Abstraction.     The  primitive  cognitions,  on  the  contrary,  seem  to 
lea[)  ready  armed  from  the  womb  of  reason,  like  Pallas  from  the 
head  of  Jupiter  ;  sometimes  the  mind  places  them  at  the  com- 
mencement of  its  operations,  in  order  to  have  a  point  of  support 

ble  spontaneities  themselves,  of  which  the  primary  facts  of  consciousness 
are  the  manifestations,  than  rational  or  intellectual  Instincts.  In  fact,  if 
Reason  can  justly  be  called  a  developed  Feeling,  it  may  with  no  less  pro- 
priety be  called  an  illuminated  Instinct.]  — Diss.  supp.  to  Reid. 

Et  quod  nunc  Ratio,  Impetus  ante  fuit. 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY.  507 

and  a  fixed  basis,  without  which  the  operations  would  be  impos- 
sible ;  sometimes  they  form,  in  a  certain  sort,  the  crownin-,  the 
consummation  of  all  the  intellectual  operations.     The  derivative 
or  generalized  notions  are  an  artifice  of  intellect,  —  an  ingenious 
mean  of  giving  order  and  compactness  to  the  materials'^of  our 
knowledge.     The  primitive  and  general  notions  are  the  root  of 
all  prmciples,  — the  foundation  of  the  whole  edifice  of  human 
science.     But  how  different  soever  be  the  two  classes  of  our  cog- 
nitions, and  however  distinctly  separated  they  may  be  by  the  cir- 
cumstance, —  that  we  cannot  but  think  the  one,  and  can  easily 
annihilate    the  other   in  thought,  -  this  discriminative  quality 
was  not  explicitly  signalized  till  done  by  Leibnitz.     The  older 
philosophers  are  at  best  undeveloped.     Descartes  made  the  first 
step  towards  a  more  perspicuous  discrimination.     He  frequently 
enounces  that  our  primitive  notions  (besides  being  clear  and  dis- 
tinct) are  universal.     But  this  universality  is  only  a  derived 
circumstance  ;  —  a  notion  is  imiversal  (meaning  thereby  that  a 
notion  is  common  to  all  mankind),  because  it  is  7iecessanj  to  the 
thinking  mind,  —  because  the  mind  cannot  but  think  it. 

The  enouncement  of  this  criterion  was,  in  fact,  a  great  dis- 
covery in  the  science  of  mind ;    and  the  fact  that  a  truth  so 
manifest,  when  once  proclaimed,  could  have  lain  so  long  unno- 
ticed by  philosophers,  may  warrant  us  in  hoping  that  other  dis- 
coveries of  equal  importance  may  still  be  awaiting  tlie  advent 
of  another    Leibnitz.     Leibnitz    has,  in    several    parts   of  his 
works,  laid  down  the  distinction  in  question ;  and,  what  is  curi- 
ous, almost   always  in  relation   to   Locke.     "  Li   Locke,"  [he 
says,]  "  there  are  some  particulars  not  ill  expounded,  but  upon 
the  whole  he  has  wandered  f\xr  from  the  gate,  nor  has  he  under- 
stood,  the  nature  of  the  intellect.     Had  he  sufficiently  consid- 
ered the  difference  between  necessary  truths  or  those  appre- 
hended by  demonstration,  and  those  which  become  known  to  us 
by  induction  alone,  — he  would  have  seen,  that  those  which  are 
necessary  could  only  be  approved  to  us  by  principles  native  to 
the  mmd ;  seeing  that  the  senses  indeed  inform  us  what  may 
take  place,  but  not  what  necessarily  takes  place.     Locke  has  not 
observed,  that  the  notions  of  being,  of  substmice,  of  one  and 


508 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


509 


the  same,  of  the  true,  of  the  good,  and  many  others,  are  innate 
to  our  mind,  because  our  mind  is  innate  to  itself,  and  finds  all 
these  in   its  own  furniture.     It   is  true,  indeed,  that   there  is 
nothing  in  the  intellect  which  was  not  previously  in  the  sense, — 
except   the  intellect   itself."     In   [another]   place   he  says,— 
"Hence  arises  another  question,  namely:    Are  all  truths  de- 
pendent on  experience,  that  is  to  say,  on  induction  and  exam- 
ples?    Or  are   there   some  which   have  anotlier   foundation? 
For  if  some  events  can  be  foreseen  before  all  trial  has  been 
made,  it  is  manifest  that  we  contribute  something  on  our  part. 
The  senses,  although  necessary  for  all  our  actual  cognitions,  are 
not,  however,  competent  to  afford  us  all  that  cognitions  involve ; 
for  the  senses  never  give  us  more  than  examples,  that  is  to  say, 
particular  or  individual  truths.     Now  all  the  examples,  which 
coniirm  a  general  truth,  how  numerous  soever  they  may  be,  are 
insufficient   to  establish  the  universal   necessity  of  this   same 
truth ;  for  it  does  not  follow,  that  what  has  happened  will  hap- 
pen always  in    like  manner.     For  example:   the  Greeks  and 
Romans  and  other  nations  have  always  observed,  that,  during  the 
course  of  twenty-four   hours,  day  is  changed   into  night,  and 
night  into  day.     But  we  should  be  wrong,  were  we  to  believe 
that  the  same  rule  holds  everywhere,  as  the  contrary  has  been 
observed  during  a  residence  in  Nova  Zembla.     And  he  again 
would  deceive  himself,  who  should  believe  that,  in  our  latitudes 
at  least,  this  was  a  truth  necessary  and  eternal ;  for  we  ouglit 
to  consider,  that  the  earth  and  the  sun  themselves  have  no  nec- 
essary exi-tence,  and   that   there  will   perhaps  a   time  arrive 
wlien  this  fair  star  will,  with  its  whole  system,  have  no  longer  a 
place  in  creation,  —  at  least  under  its  present  form.     Hence  it 
appears,  that   the   necessary  truths,  such  as  we  find   them  in 
Pure  Mathematics,  and  particularly  in  Ai'ithmetic  and  Geome- 
try, behoove  to  have  principles  the  proof  of  which  does  not 
depend  upon  examples,  and,  consequently,  not  on  the  evidence 
of  sense;   howbeit,  that  without  the  senses,  we  should  never 
have  found  occasion  to  call  them  into  consciousness.     This  is 
what  it  is  necessary  to  distinguish  accurately,  and  it  is  wiiat 
Euclid  has  so  well  understood,  in  demonstrating  by  reason  what 


is   sufficiently   apparent   by   experience   and   sensible   images. 
Logic,  likewise,  with  Metaphyics  and  Morals,  the  one  of  which 
constitutes  Natural  Theology,  the  other  Natural  Jurisprudence, 
are  full  of  such  truths ;  and,  consequently,  their  proof  can  only 
be  derived  from  internal  principles,  which  we  call  innate.     It  is 
true,  that  we  ought  not  to  imagine  that  we  can  read  in  the  soul 
these  eternal  laws  of  reason  ad  aperturam  lihri,  as  we  can  read 
the  edict  of  the  Praetor,  without  trouble  or  research ;  but  it  is 
enough,  that  we  can  discover  them  in  ourselves  by  dint  of  atten- 
tion, when  the  occasions  are  presented  to  us  by  the  senses. 
The  success  of  the  observation  serves  to  confirm  reason,  in  the 
same  way  as  proofs  serve  in  Arithmetic  to  obviate  erroneous 
calculations,  when  the  computation  is  long.     It  is  hereby,  also, 
that  the  cognitions  of  men  differ  from  those  of  beasts.     The 
beasts  are  purely  empirical,  and  only  regulate  themselves  by 
examples ;  for  as  far  as  we  can  judge,  they  never  attain  to  the 
formation  of  necessary  judgments,  whereas,  men  are  capable  of 
demonstrative  sciences,  and  herein  the  faculty  which  brutes  pos- 
sess of  drawing  inferences  is  inferior  to  the  reason  which  is  in 
men."     And,  after  some  other  observations,  he  proceeds :  "  In 
illustration  of  this,  let  me  make  use  hkewise  of  the  simile  of  a 
block  of  marble  which  has  veins,  rather  than  of  a  block  of 
marble  wholly  unifonn,  or  of  blank  tablets,  that  is  to  say,  what 
is  called  a  tabula  rasa  by  philosophers ;  for  if  the  mind  resem- 
bled these  blank  tablets,  truths  would  be  in  us,  as  the  figure  of 
Hercules  is  in  a  piece  of  marble,  when  the  marble  is  altogether 
indifferent  to  the  reception  of  this  figure  or  of  any  other.     But 
if  we  suppose  that  there  are  veins  in  the  stone  which  would 
mark  out  the  figure  of  Hercules  by  preference  to  other  figures, 
tliis  stone  would  be  more  determined  thereunto,  and  Hercules 
would  exist  there,  innately  in  a  certain  sort ;  although  it  would 
require  labor  to  discover  the  veins,  and  to  clear  them  by  polish- 
ing and  the  removal  of  all  that  prevents  their  manifestation. 
It  is  thus  that  ideas  and  truths  are  innate  in  us ;  like  our  incli- 
nations, dispositions,  natural  habitudes  or  virtuahties,  and  not  as 
actions ;  although  these  virtualities  be  always  accompanied  by 

some  corresponduig  actions,  frequently  however  unperceived." 

43* 


510 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


And   in  another  remarkable  passage,  Leibnitz   says,  "Tlie 
mind  is  not  only  capable  of  knowing  pure  and  necessary  truths, 
but  likewise  of  discovering  them  in  itself;  and  if  it  possessed 
only  the  simple  capacity  of  receiving  cognitions,  or  the  passive 
power  of  knowledge,  as  indetennined  as  that  of  the  wax  to  re- 
ceive figures,  or  k  blank  tablet  to  rec.eive  letters,  it  would  not  be 
the  source  of  necessary  truths,  as  I  am  about  to  demonstrate 
that  it  is  :  for  it  is  incontestable,  that  the  senses  could  not  suffice 
to  make  their  necessity  apparent,  and  that  the  intellect  has, 
therefore,  a  disposition,  as  well  active  as  passive,  to  draw  them 
from  its  own  bosom,  although  the  senses  be  requisite  to  furnish 
the  occasion,  and  the  attention  to  determine  it  upon  some  in 
preference  to  others.     You  see,  therefore,  these  very  able  phi- 
losophers, who  are  of  a  different  opinion,  have  not  sufficiently 
reflected  on  the  consequence  of  the  difference  that  subsists  be- 
tween necessary  or  eternal  truths  and  the  truths  of  experience, 
as  I  have  already  observed,  and  as  all  our  contestation  shows. 
The  original  proof  of  necessary  truths  comes  from  the  intellect 
alone,  while  other  truths  are  derived  from  experience  or  the 
observations  of  sense.     Our  mind  is  competent  to  both  kinds  of 
knowledge,  but  it  is  itself  the  source  of  the  former ;  and  how 
great  soever  may  be  the  number  of  particular  experiences  in 
support  of  a  universal  truth,  we  should  never  be  able  to  assure 
ourselves  forever  of  its  universality   by  induction,  unless  we 
knew  its  necessity  by  reason.     The  senses  may  register,  justify, 
and  confirm  these  truths,  but  not  demonstrate  their  infallibility 
and  eternal  certainty." 

And  in  speaking  of  the  faculty  of  such  truths,  he  says :  "  It 
is  not  a  naked  faculty,  which  consists  in  the  mere  possibihty  of 
understanding  them ;  it  is  a  disposition,  an  ai)titude,  a  preforma- 
tion, which  determines  our  mind  to  elicit,  and  which  causes  that 
they  can  be  elicited ;  precisely  as  there  is  a  difference  between 
the  figures  which  are  bestowed  indifferently  on  stone  or  marble, 
and  those  which  veins  mark  out  or  are  disposed  to  mark  out,  if 
the  sculptor  avail  himself  of  the  indications." 

Held  made  the  same  discrimination.  —  We  have  thus  seen 
that  Leibnitz  was  the  first  philosopher  who  explicitly  estabhshed 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY.  51 1 

the  quality  of  necessity  as  the  criterion  of  distinction  between 
erap,ncal  and  a  priori  cognitions.     I  may,  however,  remark, 
wimt  ,s  creditable  to  Dr.  Reid's  sagacity,  that  he  founded  the 
same  discrimination  on  the  same  ditFerence :  and  I  am  disposed 
to  tlnnk  that  he  did  this  without  being  aware  of  his  coincidence 
with  Leibnitz ;  for  he  does  not  seem  to  have  studied  the  system 
of  that  philosoplier  in  his  own  works  ;  and  it  was  not  till  Kant 
had  shown  the  importance  of  the  criterion,  by  its  application  in 
his  hands,  that  the  attention  of  the  learned  was  called  to  the 
scattered  notices  of  it  in  the  writings  of  Leibnitz.     I„  speaking 
of  the  principle  of  causality.  Dr.  Reid  says :  "  We  are  next  to 
consider  whether  we  may  not  learn  this  truth  from  experience, 
—  That  effects  which  have  all  the  marks  and  tokens  of  desi-n, 
must  proceed  from  a  designing  cause."  ° 

"  I  apprehend  that  we  cannot  learn  this  truth  from  experi- 
ence, for  two  reasons. 

"First.  Because  it  is  a  necessaiy  truth,  not  a  contingent  one. 
It  agrees  with  the  experience  of  mankind  since  the  beginning 
of  the  worid,  that  tlie  area  of  a  triangle  is  equal  to  half  the 
rectangle  under  its  base  and  perpendicular.     It  agrees  no  less 
with  experience,  that  the  sun  rises  in  the  east  and  sets  in  the 
west.     So  far  as  experience  goes,  these  truths  are  upon  an 
equal  footuig.     But  every  man  perceives  this  distinction  be- 
tween them, -that  the  first  is  a  necessary  truth,  and  that  it  is 
impossible  that  it  should  not  be  true ;  but  the  last  is  not  neces- 
sary, but  contingent,  depending  upon  the  will  of  Him  who  made 
the  world.     As  we  cannot  learn  from  experience  that   twice 
three  must  necessarily  make  six,  so  neither  can  we  learn  from 
experience  that  certain  effects  must  proceed  from  a  designin<r 
and  intelligent  cause.     Experience  informs  us  only  of  what  ha^ 
been,  but  never  of  what  must  be." 

And  in  speaking  of  our  behef  in  the  principle  that  an  effect 
manifesting  design  must  have  had  an  intelligent  cause,  he  says, 
—  "  It  has  been  thought,  that,  although  this  principle  does  not 
admit  of  proof  from  abstract  reasoning,  it  may  be  proved  from 
experience,  and  may  be  justly  drawn  by  induction  from  in- 
stances that  fall  within  our  observation. 


512 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


513 


"  I  conceive  this  method  of  proof  will  leave  us  in  great  un- 
certainty, for  these  three  reasons : 

"  IsL  Because  the  proposition  to  be  proved  is  not  a  contingent 
but  a  necessary  proposition.  It  is  not  that  things  which  begin 
to  exist  commonly  have  a  cause,  or  even  that  they  always  in 
fact  have  a  cause ;  but  that  they  must  have  a  cause,  and  cannot 
begin  to  exist  without  a  cause. 

"  Propositions  of  this  kind,  from  their  nature,  are  incapable 
of  proof  by  induction.  Experience  informs  us  only  of  what  is 
or  has  been,  not  of  what  7nust  he  ;  and  the  conclusion  must  be 
of  the  same  nature  with  the  premises. 

"  For  this  reason,  no  mathematical  proposition  can  be  proved 
by  induction.  Though  it  should  be  found  by  experience  in  a 
thousand  cases,  that  the  area  of  a  plain  triangle  is  equal  to  the 
rectangle  under  the  altitude  and  half  the  base,  this  would  not 
prove  that  it  must  be  so  in  all  cases,  and  cannot  be  otherwise ; 
which  is  what  the  mathematician  affirms. 

"  In  like  manner,  though  we  had  the  most  ample  experimen- 
tal proof,  that  things  which  had  begun  to  exist  had  a  cause,  this 
would  not  prove  that  they  must  have  a  cause.  Experience 
may  show  us  what  is  the  established  course  of  nature,  but  can 
never  show  what  connection  of  tilings  are  in  their  nature  neces- 
sary. 

"  2dly,  General  maxims,  grounded  on  experience,  have  only  a 
degree  of  probability  proportioned  to  the  extent  of  our  experi- 
ence ;  and  ought  always  to  be  uftderstood  so  as  to  leave  room  for 
exceptions,  if  future  experience  should  discover  any  such. 

"  The  law  of  gravitation  has  as  full  proof  from  experience 
and  induction  as  any  principle  can  be  supposed  to  have.  Yet, 
if  any  philosopher  should,  by  clear  experiment,  show  that  there 
is  a  kind  of  matter  in  some  bodies  which  does  not  gravitate,  the 
law  of  gravitation  ought  to  be  limited  by  that  exception. 

"  Now  it  is  evident  that  men  have  never  considered  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  necessity  of  causes  as  a  truth  of  this  kind,  which 
may  admit  of  limitation  or  exception ;  and  therefore  it  has  not 
been  received  upon  this  kind  of  evidence. 

"  Zdly.  I  do  not  see  that  experience  could  satisfy  us  that  ev- 
ery change  in  nature  actually  has  a  cause. 


J 


"In  the  far  greatest  part  of  the  changes  in  nature  that  fall 
within  our  observation,  the  causes  are  unknown ;  and,  therefore, 
from  experience,  we  cannot  know  whether  they  have  causes  or 
not. 

"  Causation  is  not  an  object  of  sense.  The  only  experience 
we  can  have  of  it,  is  in  the  consciousness  we  have  of  exerting 
some  power  in  ordering  our  thoughts  and  actions.  But  this  ex° 
perience  is  surely  too  narrow  a  foundation  for  a  general  conclu- 
sion, that  all  things  that  have  had  or  shall  have  a  beginning, 
must  have  a  cause." 

How   many  cognitions  should  he  ranked  as  ultimate.  —  But 
though  it  be  now  generally  acknowledged,  by  the  profoundest 
thinkers,  that  it  is  impossible  to  analyze  all  our  knowledge  into 
the  produce  of  experience,  external  or  internal,  and  that  a  cer- 
tain complement  of  cognitions  must  be  allowed  as  having  their 
origin  in  the  nature  of  the  thinking  principle  itself;  they  are 
not  at  one  in  regard  to  those  which  ought  to  be  recognized  as 
ultimate  and  elemental,  and  those  which  ought  to  be  regarded 
as  modifications  or  combinations  of  these.     Reid  and  Stewart 
(the  former  in  particular),  have  been  considered  as  too  easy  in 
their  admission  of  primary  laws ;  and  it  must  be  allowed  that 
the  censure,  in  some   instances,  is   not  altogether   unmerited. 
But  it  ought  to  be  recollected,  that  those  who  thus  agree  in 
reprehension  are  not  in  unison  in  regard  to  the  grounds  of  cen- 
sure; and  they  wholly  forget  that  our  Scottish  philosophers 
made  no  pretension  to  a  Jinal  analysis  of  the  primary  laws  of 
human  reason,  —  that  they  thought  it  enough  to  classify  a  cer- 
tain number  of  cognitions  as  native  to  the  mind,  leaving  it  to 
their  successors  to  resolve  these  into  simpler  elements.     "  The 
labyrinth,"  [says  Dr.  Reid,]  "may  be   too  intricate,  and   the 
thread  too  fine,  tdR  traced  through  all  its  windings ;  but,  if  we 
stop  where  we  can  trace  it  no  further,  and  secure  tlie  ground 
we  have  gained,  there  is  no -harm  done;  a  quicker  eye  may  in 
time  trace  it  further."     The  same  view  has  been  likewise  well 
stated  by  Mr.  Stewart.     "  In  all  the  other  sciences,  the  progress 
of  discovery  has  been  gradual,  from  the  less  general  to  the  more 
general  laws  of  nature ;  and  it  would  be  singular  indeed,  if,  in 


L'm 


514 


THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. 


THE  PHH^OSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


515 


this  science,  which  but  a  few  years  ago  was  confessedly  in  its 
infancy,  and  which  certainly  labors  under  many  disadvantages 
peculiar  to  itself,  a  step  should  all  at  once  be  made  to  a  single 
principle,  comprehending  all  the  particular  phenomena  which 
we  know.  As  the  order  established  in  the  intellectual  world 
seems  to  be  regulated  by  laws  analogous  to  those  which  we  trace 
among  the  phenomena  of  the  material  system ;  and  as  in  all  our 
philosophical  inquiries  (to  whatever  subject  they  may  relate), 
the  progress  of  the  mind  is  liable  to  be  affected  by  the  same 
tendency  to  a  premature  generalization,  the  following  extract 
from  an  eminent  chemical  writer  may  contribute  to  illustrate 
the  scope  and  to  confirm  the  justness  of  some  of  the  foregoing 
reflections.  'Within  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  several 
new  metals  and  new  earths  have  been  made  known  to  the 
world.  The  names  that  support  these  discoveries  are  respecta- 
ble, and  the  experiments  decisive.  If  we  do  not  give  our  assent 
to  them,  no  single  proposition  in  chemistry  can  for  a  moment 
stand.  But  whether  all  these  are  really  simi)le  substances,  or 
compounds  not  yet  resolved  into  their  elements,  is  what  the 
authors  themselves  cannot  possibly  assert ;  nor  would  it,  in  the 
least,  diminish  the  merit  of  their  observations,  if  future  experi- 
ments should  prove  them  to  have  been  mistaken,  as  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  these  substances.  This  remark  should  not  be  confined 
to  later  discoveries  ;  it  may  as  justly  be  applied  to  those  earths 
and  metals  witli  which  we  have  been  long  acquainted.'  '  In  the 
dark  ages  of  chemistry,  the  object  was  to  rival  Nature ;  and  the 
substance  which  the  adepts  of  those  days  were  busied  to  create, 
was  universally  allowed  to  be  simple.  In  a  more  enlightened 
period,  we  have  extended  our  inquiries  and  multiplie<l  the  num- 
ber of  the  elements.  The  last  tiisk  will  be  t^implify  ;  and  by 
a  closer  observation  of  Nature,  to  learn  fromWiut  a  small  store 
of  primitive  materials,  all  that  \ve  behold  and  wonder  at  was 
created.' " 

That  the  list  of  the  primary  elements  of  human  reason,  which 
our  two  philosophers  have  given,  has  no  pretence  to  order ;,  and 
that  the  principles  which  it  contains  are  not  systematically 
deduced  by  any  ambitious  process  of  metaphysical  ingenuity,  is 


tU 


I 


no  valid  ground  of  disparagement.  In  fact,  which  of  the  vaunted 
classifications  of  these  primitive  truths  can  stand  the  test  of  criti- 
cism ?  The  most  celebrated,  and  by  far  the  most  ingenious,  of 
these,  —  the  scheme  of  Kant,  —  though  the  truth  of  its  details 
may  be  admitted,  is  no  longer  regarded  as  affording  either  a 
necessary  deduction  or  a  natural  arrann^ement  of  our  native  co<y- 
nitions;  and  the  reduction  of  these  to  system  still  remains  a 
problem  to  be  resolved. 

Distinction  between  Positive  and  Negative   Necessity.  —  In 
point  of  fact,  philosophers  have  not  yet  purified  the  antecedent 
conditions  of  the  problem,  —  have  not  yet  established  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  its  solution  ought  to  be  undertaken.     And  here 
I  would  solicit  your  attention  to  a  circumstance,  which  shows 
how  far  philosophers  are  still  removed  from  the  prospect  of  an 
ultimate  decision.     It  is  agreed,  that  the  quality  of  necessity  is 
that  which  discriminates  a  native  from  an  adventitious  element 
of  knowledge.     When  we  find,  therefore,  a  cognition  which  con- 
tams  this  discriminative  quality,  we  are  entitled  to  lay  it  down 
as  one  which  could  not  have  been  obtained  as  a  generalization 
from  experience.     This  I  admit.     But  when  philosophers  lay 
it  down  not  only  as  native  to  the  mind,  but  as  a  positive  and 
immediate   datum  of  an   intellectual   power,  I  demur.     It   is 
evident  that  the  quality  of  necessity  in  a  cognition  may  depend 
on  two  different  and  opposite  principles,  inasmuch  as  it  may 
either  he  the  result  of  a  power,  or  of  a  powerlessness  of  the  think- 
ing principle.     In  the  one  case,  it  will  be  a  Positive,  in  the 
other  a  Negative,  necessity.     Let  us  take  examples  of  these 
opposite  cases.     In  an  act  of  perceptive  consciousness,  I  think, 
and  cannot  but  think,  that  I  and  that  something  different  from 
me  exist,  —  in  other  words,  that  my  perception,  as  a  modification 
of  the  Ego,  exists,  and  that  the  object  of  my  perception,  as  a 
modification  of  the  Non-ego,  exists.     In  these  circumstances,  I 
pronounce  Existence  to  be  a  native  cognition,  because  I  find 
that  I  cannot  think  except  under  the  condition  of  thinking  all 
that  I  am  conscious  of  to  exist.     Existence  is  thus  a  form,  a  cat- 
egory, of  thought.     But  here,  though  I  cannot  but  think  exist- 
ence, I  am  conscious  of  this  thought  as  an  act  of  power,  —  an 


i\ 


516 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


act  of  intellectual  force.     It  is  the  result  of  strength,  and  not  of 

weakness. 

In  like  manner,  when  I  think  2  X  2  =  4,  the  thought,  though 
inevitable,  is  not  felt  as  an  imbecility  ;  we  know  it  as  true,  and, 
in  the  perception  of  the  truth,  though  the  act  be  necessary,  the 
mind  is  conscious  that  the  necessity  does  not  arise  from  impo- 
tence. On  the  contrary,  we  attribute  the  same  necessity  to  God. 
Here,  therefore,  there  is  a  class  of  natural  cognitions,  which  we 
may  properly  view  as  so  many  positive  exertions  of  the  mental 
vigor,  and  the  cognitions  of  this  class  we  consider  as  Positive. 
To  this  class  will  belong  the  notion  of  Existence  and  its  modifi- 
cations, the  principles  of  Identity,  and  Contradiction,  and  Ex- 
cluded Middle,  the  intuitions  of  Space  and  Time,  etc. 

The  Negative  sort  of  Necessity  illustrated.  —  But  besides  these, 
there  are  other  necessary  forms  of  thought,  which,  by  all  philos- 
ophers, have  been  regarded  as  standing  precisely  on  the  same 
footing,  which  to  me  seem  to  be  of  a  totally  different  kind.     In 
place  of  being  the  result  of  a  power,  the  necessity  which  belongs 
to  them  is  merely  a  consequence  of  the  impotence  of  our  facul- 
ties.    But  if  this  be  the  case,  nothing  could  be  more  unphilo- 
sophical  than  to  arrogate  to  these  negative  inabilities  the  dignity 
of  positive  energies.     Every  rule  of  philosophizing  would  be 
violated.     The  law  of  Parcimony  prescribes,  that  principles  are 
not  to  be  multiplied  without  necessity,  and  that  an  hypothetical 
force  be  not  postulated  to  explain  a  phaiuomenon  which  can  be 
better  accounted  for  by  an  admitted  impotence.     The  phajnom- 
enon  of  a  heavy  body  rising  from  the  earth,  may  warrant  us  in 
the  assumption  of  a  special   power ;  but  it  would   surely  be 
absurd   to   devise  a  special   power   (that  is,  a  power  besides 
frravitation)  to  explain  the  phaenomenon  of  its  descent. 
'^  Now,  that  the  imbecility  of  the  human  mind  constitutes  a 
great  negative  principle,  to  which  sundry  of  the  most  important 
plucnomena  of  intelligence  may  be  referred,  appears  to  me  in- 
contestable ;  and  though  the  discussion  is  one  somewhat  abstract, 
I  shall  endeavor  to  give  you  an  insight  into  the  nature  and  ap- 
plication of  this  principle. 

I  begin  by  the  statement  of  certain  principles,  to  which  it  is 

necessary  in  the  sequel  to  refer. 


I 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


517 


f] 


»1 


The  highest  of  all  logical  laws,  in  other  words  the  supreme 
law  of  thought,  is  what  is  called  the  principle  of  Contradiction, 
or  more  correctly  the  principle  of  Non-Contradiction.*     It  is 

*  [The  doctrines  of  Contradiction,  or  of  Contradictories,  that  Affirmation 
or  Negation  is  a  necessity  of  thought,  wliilst  Affirmation  and  Negation  are 
incompatible,  is  developed  into  three  sides  or  phases,  each  of  which  implies 
both  the  others,  — phases  which  may  obtain,  and  actually  have  received, 
severally,  the  name  of  Law,  Principle,  or  Axiom.  Neglecting  the  historical 
order  in  which  these  were  scientifically  named  and  articulately  developed, 
they  are : 

1°,  The  Law,  Principle,  or  Axiom,  of  Identify,  which,  in  regard  to  the 
same  thing,  immediately  or  directly  enjoins  the  affirmation  of  it  Avith  itself, 
and  mediately  or  indirectly  prohibits  its  negation  :  {A  is  A). 

2°,  The  Law,  etc.,  of  Contradiction  (properly  Non-contradiction),  which,  in 
regard  to  contradictories,  explicitly  enjoining  their  reciprocal  negation,  im- 
plicitly prohibits  their  reciprocal  affirmation:  {A  isnotNot-A).  In  other 
words,  contradictories  are  thought  as  existences  incompatible  at  the  same 
time,  —  as  at  once  mutually  exclusive. 

3°,  The  Law,  etc.,  of  Excluded  Middle  or  Third,  which  declares  that, 
whilst  contradictories  are  only  two,  every  thing,  if  explicitly  thought,  must 
be  thought  as  of  these  either  the  one  or  the  other :  {A  is  either  D  or  Not-B). 
In  different  terms :  —  Affirmation  and  negation  of  the  same  thing,  in  the 
same  respect,  have  no  conceivable  medium ;  whilst  any  thing  actually  may, 
and  virtually  must,  be  either  affirmed  or  denied  of  any  thing.  In  other 
words  :  — Every  predicate  is  true  or  false  of  every  subject;  or,  contradicto- 
ries are  thought  as  incompossible,  but,  at  the  same  time,  the  one  or  the 
other  as  necessary.  The  argument  from  Contradiction  is  omnipotent  within 
its  sphere,  but  that  sphere  is  narrow.     It  has  the  following  limitations : 

1°,  It  is  negative,  not  positive;  it  may  refute,  but  it  is  incompetent  to 
establish.  It  may  show  what  is  not,  but  never  of  itself  what  is.  It  is 
exclusively  Logical  or  Formal,  not  Metaphysical  or  Real ;  it  proceeds  on 
a  necessity  of  thought,  but  never  issues  in  an  Ontology  or  knowledge  of 
existence. 

2°,  It  is  dependent ;  to  act  it  presupposes  a  counter-proposition  to  act 
from. 

.3°,  It  is  explicative,  not  ampliative;  it  analyzes  what  is  given,  but  does 
not  originate  information,  or  add  any  thing,  through  itself,  to  our  stock  of 
knowledge. 

4°,  But,  what  is  its  principal  defect,  it  is  partial,  not  thorough-going.  It 
leaves  many  of  the  most  important  problems  of  our  knowledge  out  of  its 
determination ;  and  is,  therefore,  all  too  narrow  in  its  application  as  a  uni- 
versal criterion  or  instrument  of  judgment.     For  were  we  left,  in  our  rea- 

44 


518 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


this:  A  thing  cannot  be  and  not  be  at  the  same  time,-- Alpha 
est,  Alpha  non  est,  are  propositions  which  cannot  both  be  true  at 
once.     A  second  fundamental   law  of  thought,  or  rather   the 
principle  of  Contradiction  viewed  in  a  certain  aspect,  is  called 
the  principle  of  Excluded  Middle,  or,  more  fully,  the  principle 
of  Excluded   Middle   between  two  Contradictories.     A  thing 
either  is  or  is  not,  —  Aid  est  Alpha,  aut  non  est ;  there  is  no  me- 
dium ;  one  must  be  true,  both  cannot.    These  principles  require, 
indeed  admit  of,  no  proof.     They  prove  every  thmg,  but  are 
proved  by  nothing.     When  I  therefore  have  occasion  to  speak 
of  these  laws  by  name,  you  will  know  to  what  principle  I  refer. 
Hamilton's  one  grand  law  of  thought  illustrated.— ^ow,  then, 
I  lay  it  down  as  a  law,  which,  though  not  generalized  by  philoso- 
phers, can  be  easUy  proved  to  be  true  by  its  application  to  the 
phainomena :   That  all  that  is  conceivable  in  thought,  lies  between 
two  extremes,  which,  as  contradictory  of  each  other,  cannot  both 
be  true,  but  of  which,  as  mutual  contradictories,  one  must.     For 
example,  we  conceive  Space,  — we  cannot  but  conceive  Space. 
I  admit,  therefore,  that  Space  indefinitely  is  a  positive  and  nec- 
essary form  of  thought.     But  when  philosophers  convert  the 
fact,  that  we  cannot  but  think  space,  or,  to  express  it  differently, 
that  we  are  unable  to  imagine  any  thing  out  of  space,  — when 
philosophers,  I  say,  convert  this  fact  with  the  assertion,  that  we 
have  a  notion,  — a  positive  notion,  of  absolute  or  of  infinite 
space,  they  assume,  not  only  what  is  not  contained  in  the  phae- 
nomenon,  nay,  they  assume  what  is  the  very  reverse  of  what 
the  phcEuomenon  manifests.     It  is  plain,  that  space  must  either 
be  bounded  or  not  bounded.     These  are  contradictory  alterna- 

sonings,  to  a  dependence  on  the  principle  of  Contradiction,  we  should  be 
unable  competently  to  attempt  any  argument  with  regard  to  some  of  the 
most  interesting  and  important  questions.  For  there  are  many  problems 
in  the  philosophy  of  mind  where  tiie  solution  necessarily  lies  betAveen  what 
are,  to  us,  the  one  or  the  other  of  two  counter,  and,  therefore,  incompatible 
alternatives,  neither  of  which  are  we  able  to  conceive  as  possible,  but  of 
which,  by  the  very  conditions  of  thought,  we  are  compelled  to  acknowledge 
that  the  one  or  the  other  cannot  but  be;  and  it  is  as  supplying  this  defi- 
ciency, that  what  has  been  called  the  argument  from  Common  Sense 
becomes  principally  useful.]  —  Appendix. 


^ 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


519 


i 


lives;  on  the  principle  of  Contradiction,  they  cannot  both  be 
true  ;  and,  on  the  principle  of  Excluded  Middle,  one  must  be 
true.  This  cannot  be  denied,  without  denying  the  primary  laws 
of  intelligence.  But  though  space  must  be  admitted  to  be  neces- 
sarily either  finite  or  infinite,  we  are  able  to  conceive  the  possi- 
bility neither  of  its  finitude  nor  of  its  infinity. 

We  are  altogether  unable  to  perceive  space  as  bounded,  —  as 
finite;  that  is,  as  a  whole  beyond  which  there  is  no  further 
space.  Every  one  is  conscious  that  this  is  impossible.  It  con- 
tradicts also  the  supposition  of  space  as  a  necessary  notion ;  for 
if  we  could  imagine  space  as  a  terminated  sphere,  and  that 
sphere  not  itself  enclosed  in  a  surrounding  space,  v/e  should  not 
be  obliged  to  think  every  thing  in  space ;  and,  on  the  contrary, 
if  we  did  imagine  tliis  terminated  sphere  as  itself  in  space,  in 
that  case,  we  should  not  have  actually  conceived  all  space  as 
a  bounded  whole.  The  one  contradictory  is  thus  found  incon- 
ceivable ;  we  cannot  conceive  space  as  positively  limited. 

This  law  applied  to  space  as  a  maximum.  —  On  the  other 
hand,  we  are  equally  powerless  to  realize  in  thought  the  possi- 
bility of  the  opposite  contradictory ;  we  cannot  conceive  space 
as  infinite,  as  without  limits.     You  may  launch  out  in  thought 
beyond  the  solar  walk,  you  may  transcend  in  fancy  even  the 
universe  of  matter,  and  rise  from  sphere  to  sphere  in  the  region 
of  empty  space,  until  imagination  sinks  exhausted ;  —  with  all 
this,  what  have  you  done  ?     You  have  never  gone  beyond  the 
finite,  you  have  attained  at  best  only  to  the  indefinite,  and  the 
indefinite,  however  expanded,  is  still  always  the  finite.    As  Pascal 
energetically  says,  "  Inflate  our  conceptions  as  we  may,  with  all 
the  finite  possible,  we  cannot  make  one  atom  of  the  infinite." 
"  The  infinite  is  infinitely  incomprehensible."     Now,  then,  both 
contradictories  are  equally  inconceivable  ;  and  could  we  limit  our 
attention  to  one  alone,  we  should  deem  it  at  once  impossible  and 
absurd,  and  suppose  its  unknown  opposite  as  necessarily  true. 
But  as  we  not  only  can,  but  are  constrained  to  consider  both,  we 
find  that  both  are  equally  incomprehensible;  and  yet,  though 
unable  to  view  either  as  possible,  we  are  forced  by  a  higher  law 
to  admit  that  one,  but  one  only,  is  necessary. 


520 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


I 


THE  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


521 


Space  as  a  minimum  also  mcoJiceivaUe.  —  That  the  conceiv- 
able Hes  also  between  two  inconceivable  extremes,  is  illustrated 
by  every  other  relation  of  thought.  We  have  found  the  maxi- 
mum of  space  incomprehensible ;  can  we  comprehend  its  mini- 
mum ?  This  is  equally  impossible.  Here,  likewise,  we  recoil 
from  one  inconceivable  contradictory  only  to  infringe  upon  an- 
other. Let  us  take  a  portion  of  space,  however  small ;  we  can 
never  conceive  it  as  the  smallest.  It  is  necessarily  extended, 
and  may,  consequently,  be  divided  into  a  half  or  quarters,  and 
each  of  these  halves  or  quartei^  may  again  be  divided  into  other 
halves  or  quarters,  and  this  ad  infinitum.  But  if  we  are  unable 
to  construe  to  our  mind  the  possibility  of  an  absolute  minimum 
of  space,  we  can  as  little  present  to  ourselves  the  possibility  of 
an  infinite  divisibility  of  any  extended  entity. 

Time  also  inconceivable,  either  as  a  maximum  or  a  minimum.  — 
In  like  manner.  Time ;— this  is  a  notion  even  more  universal  than 
space,  for  while  we  exempt  from  occupying  space  the  enei-gies 
of  mind,  we  are  unable  to  conceive  these  as  not  occupying  time. 
Thus,  we  think  every  thing,  mental  and  material,  as  in  time,  and 
out  of  time  we  cim  think  nothing.    But,  if  we  attempt  to  compre- 
hend time,  either  in  whole  or  in  part,  we  find  that  thought  is 
hedged  in  between  two  incomprehensibles.    Let  us  try  the  whole. 
And  here  let  us  look  back,  — let  us  consider  time  a  parte  ante. 
And  here,  we  may  surely  flatter  ourselves,  that  we  shall  be  able 
to  conceive  time  as  a  whole,  for  here  we  have  the  past  period 
bounded  by  the  present ;  the  past  cannot,  therefore,  be  infinite 
or  eternal,  for  a  bounded  infinite  is  a  contradiction.     But  we 
shall  deceive  ourselves.     We  are  altogether  unable  to  conceive 
time  as  commencing ;  we  can  easily  represent  to  ourselves  time 
under  any  relative  limitation  of  commencement  and  termination ; 
but  we  are  conscious  to  ourselves  of  nothing  more  clearly,  than 
that  it  would  be  equally  possible  to  think  without  thought,  as  to 
construe  to  the  mind  an  absolute  commencement,  or  an  absolute 
termination,  of  time ;  that  is,  a  beginning  and  an  end  beyond 
which  time  is  conceived  as  non-existent.     Goad  imagination  to 
the  utmost,  it  still  sinks  paralyzed  within  the  bounds  of  time, 
and  time  survives  as  the  condition  of  the  thought  itself  in  which 


i 


we  annihilate  the  universe.  On  the  other  hand,  the  concept  of 
past  time  as  without  limit,  —  without  commencement,  is  equally 
impossible.  We  cannot  conceive  the  infinite  regress  of  time; 
for  such  a  notion  could  only  be  realized  by  the  infinite  addition 
in  thought  of  finite  times,  and  such  an  addition  would  itself 
require  an  eternity  for  its  accomplishment.  If  we  dream  of 
effecting  this,  we  only  deceive  ourselves  by  substituting  the 
indefinite  for  the  infinite,  than  which  no  two  notions  can  be  more 
opposed.  The  negation  of  a  commencement  of  time  involves, 
likewise,  the  affirmation,  that  an  infinite  time  has,  at  every 
moment,  already  run ;  that  is,  it  implies  the  contradiction,  that 
an  infinite  has  been  completed.  For  the  same  reasons,  we  are 
unable  to  conceive  an  infinite  progress  of  time ;  while  the  in- 
finite regress  and  the  infinite  progress,  taken  together,  involve 
the  triple  contradiction  of  an  infinite  concluded,  of  an  infinite 
commencing,  and  of  two  infinities,  not  exclusive  of  each  other. 

Now  take  the  parts  of  time,  —  a  moment,  for  instance ;  this 
we  must  conceive,  as  either  divisible  to  infinity,  or  that  it  is 
made  up  of  certain  absolutely  smallest  parts.  One  or  the  other 
of  these  contradictories  must  be  the  case.  But  each  is,  to  us, 
equally  inconceivable.  Time  is  a  protensive  quantity,  and,  con- 
sequently, any  part  of  it,  however  small,  cannot,  without  a  con- 
tradiction, be  imagined  as  not  divisible  into  pai-ts,  and  these 
parts  into  otliers  ad  infinitum.  But  the  opposite  alternative  is 
equally  impossible  ;  we  cannot  think  this  infinite  division.  One 
is  necessarily  true ;  but  neither  can  be  conceived  possible.  It 
is  on  the  inability  of  the  mind  to  conceive  either  the  ultimate 
indivisibility,  or  the  infinite  divisibility  of  space  and  time,  that 
the  arguments  of  the  Eleatic  Zeno  against  the  possibility  of 
motion  are  founded,  —  arguments  which  at  least  show,  that  mo- 
tion, however  certain  as  a  fact,  cannot  be  conceived  possible,  as 
it  involves  a  contradiction.* 

*  [Contradictions  proving  the  Psychological  Theory  of  the  Conditioned. 

1.  Finite  cannot  comprehend,  contain  the  Infinite.  —  Yet  an  irtch  or  min- 
ute, say,  are  finites,  and  are  divisible  ad  infinitum,  that  is,  their  terminated 
division  incogital)le. 

44* 


? 


522 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


This  grand  principle  called  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned.  — 
The  same  principle  could  be  shown  in  various  other  relations, 
but  what  I  have  now  said  is,  I  presume,  sufficient  to  make  you 
understand  its  import.  Now,  the  law  of  mind,  that  the  con- 
ceivahle  is  in  every  relation  hounded  by  the  inconceivable,  I  call 

2.  Infinite  cannot  be  terminated  or  begun.  —  Yet  eternity  a6  an^e  ends 
now ;  and  eternity  a  post  begins  now.  —  So  apply  to  Space. 

3.  There  cannot  be  two  infinite  maxima.  —  Yet  eternity  ab  ante  and  a 
post  are  two  infinite  maxima  of  time. 

4.  If  an  infinite  maximum  be  cut  into  two,  the  halves  cannot  be  each  in- 
finite, for  nothing  can  l)e  greater  than  infinite,  and  thus  they  could  not  be 
parts ;  nor  finite,  for  thus  two  finite  halves  would  make  an  infinite  whole. 

5.  What  contains  infinite  extensions,  protcnsions,  intensions,  [three 
modes  of  quantity,]  cannot  be  passed  through,  —  come  to  an  end.  An 
inch,  a  minute,  a  degree  contains  these ;  ergo,  etc.  Take  a  minute.  This 
contains  an  infinitude  of  protended  quantities,  which  must  follow  one  after 
another;  but  an  infinite  series  of  successive  pretensions  can,  ex  termino, 
never  be  ended  ;  ergo,  etc. 

6.  An  infinite  maximum  cannot  but  be  all  inclusive.  Time  ab  ante  and 
a  post  [arc]  infinite  and  exclusive  of  each  other ;  ergo. 

7.  An  infinite  number  of  quantities  must  make  up  cither  an  infinite  or 
a  finite  whole.  I.  The  former.  —  But  an  inch,  a  minute,  a  degree,  contain 
each  an  infinite  number  of  quantities ;  therefore,  an  inch,  a  minute,  a  de- 
gree, are  each  infinite  wholes  ;  which  is  absurd.  II.  The  latter.  —  An  in- 
finite number  of  quantities  would  thus  make  up  a  finite  quantity ;  which  is 
equally  absurd. 

8.  If  we  take  a  finite  quantity  (as  an  inch,  a  minute,  a  degree),  it  would 
appear  equally  that  there  are,  and  that  there  are  not,  an  equal  number  of 
quantities  between  these  and  a  greatest,  and  between  these  and  a  least. 

9.  An  absolutely  quickest  motion  is  that  which  passes  from  one  point  to 
another  in  space  in  a  minimum  of  time.  But  a  (juickcst  motion  from  one 
point  to  another,  say  a  mile  distance,  and  from  one  to  another,  say  a  mil- 
lion million  of  miles,  is  thought  tlie  same  ;  which  is  absurd. 

10.  A  wheel  turned  with  quickest  motion ;  if  a  spoke  be  prolonged,  it 
will  therefore  be  moved  by  a  motion  quicker  than  the  quickest.  The  same 
may  be  shown  using  the  rim  and  the  nave. 

11.  Contradictory  are  Boscovich  Points,  which  occupy  space,  and  are  in- 
extended.     Dynamism,  therefore,  inconceivable.     E  contra, 

12.  Atomism  also  inconceivable;  for  this  supposes  atoms,  —  minima 
extended  but  indivisible. 

13.  A  quantity,  say  a  foot,  has  an  infinity  of  parts.  Any  part  of  this 
quantity,  say  an  inch,  has  also  an  infinity.  But  one  infinity  is  not  larger 
than  another.     Therefore,  an  inch  is  equal  to  a  foot.]  —  Appendix. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


523 


the  Law  of  the  Conditioned.     You  will  find  many  philosophers 
who  hold  an  opinion  the  reverse  of  this,  —  maintaining  that  "  the- 
Absolute  "  is  a  native  or  necessary  notion  of  intelligence.     This, 
I  conceive,  is  an  opinion  founded  on  vagueness  and  confusion. 
They  tell  us  we  have  a  notion  of  absolute  or  infinite  space,  of 
absolute  or  infinite  time.     But  they  do  not  tell  us  in  which  of 
the  opposite  contradictories   this  notion  is   realized.     Though 
these  are  exclusive  of  each  other,  and  though  both  are  only  ne- 
gations of  the  conceivable  on  its  opposite  poles,  they  confound 
together   these  exclusive  inconceivables  into  a  single  notion; 
suppose  it  positive,  and  baptize  it  with  the  name  of  Absolute! 
The  sum,  therefore,  of  what  I  have  now  stated  is,  that  the  Con- 
ditioned  is  that  which  is  alo7ie  conceivable  or  cogitable;  the  Un- 
conditioned, that  which  is   inconceivable  or  incogitable.     The 
Conditioned  or   the  thinkable  lies   between  two  extremes  or 
poles ;  and  these  extremes  or  poles  are  each  of  them  Uncondi- 
tioned, each  of  them  inconceivable,  each  of  them  exclusive  or 
contradictory  of  the  other.     Of  these  two  repugnant  opposites, 
the  one  is  that  of  Unconditional  or  Absolute  Limitation ;  the 
other,  that  of  Unconditional  or  Infinite  Illimitation.     The  one 
we  may,  therefore,  in  general  call  the  Absolutely  Unconditioned, 
the  other  the  Infinitely  Unconditioned;  or,  more  simply,  the 
Absolute  and  the  Infinite ;  the  term  Absolute  expressing  that 
which  is   finished   or  complete,  the  term   Infinite,  that  which 
cannot  be  terminated  or  concluded.     These  terms,  which,  like 
the  Absolute  and   Infinite  themselves,  philosophers   have  con- 
founded, ought  not  only  to  be  distinguished,  but  opposed  as  con- 
tradictory.    The  notion  of  either  unconditioned  is  negative : 

the  Absolute  and  the  Infinite  can  each  only  be  conceived  as  a 
negation  of  the  thinkable.  In  other  words,  of  the  Absolute  and 
Infinite  we  have  no  conception  at  all. 

[To  recapitulate :  —  In  our  opinion,  the  mind  can  conceive,  and, 
consequently,  can  know,  only  the  limited,  and  the  conditionally 
limited.  The  unconditionally  unlimited,  or  the  Infinite,  —  the 
unconditionally  limited,  or  the  ^Jso/i^^e,  —  cannot  positively  be 
construed  to  the  mind ;  they  can  be  conceived,  only  by  a  think- 
ing away  from,  or  abstraction  of,  those  very  conditions  under 


I 


524 


THE  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


525 


which  thought  itself  is  realized ;  consequently,  the  notion  of  the 
Unconditioned  is  only  negative  —  negative  of  the  conceivable 
itself.  For  example,  on  the  one  hand  we  can  positively  con- 
ceive, neither  an  absolute  whole,  that  is,  a  whole  so  great,  that 
we  cannot  also  conceive  it  as  a  relative  part  of  a  still  greater 
whole ;  nor  an  absolute  part,  that  is,  a  part  so  small,  that  we 
cannot  also  conceive  it  as  a  relative  whole,  divisible  into  smaller 
parts.  On  the  other  hand,  we  cannot  positively  represent,  or 
reahze,  or  construe  to  the  mind  (as  here  Understanding  and 
Imagination  coincide),*  an  infinite  whole ;  for  this  could  only  be 
done  by  the  infinite  synthesis  in  thought  of  finite  wholes,  which 
would  itself  require  an  infinite  time  for  its  accomplishment ;  nor, 
for  the  same  reason,  can  we  follow  out  in  thought  an  infinite  di- 
visibility of  parts.  The  result  is  the  same,  whether  we  apply 
the  process  to  limitation  in  space,  in  time,  or  in  degree.  The  un- 
conditional negation,  and  the  unconditional  affirmation  of  limita- 
tion, —  in  other  words,  the  Infinite  and  the  Absolute,  — properly 
so  called,^  are  thus  inconceivable  to  us. 

*  [The  Understanding,  thought  proper,  notion,  concept,  etc.,  may  coin- 
cide or  not  with  Imagination,  representation  proper,  image,  etc.  The  two 
faculties  do  not  coincide  in  a  general  notion  ;  for  we  cannot  represent  Man 
or  Horse  in  an  actual  image  without  individualizing  the  universal ;  and 
thus  contradiction  emerges.  But  in  the  individual,  say  Socrates  or  Bu- 
cephalus, they  do  coincide ;  for  I  see  no  valid  ground  why  we  should  not 
think,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  or  conceive,  the  individuals  which  wo 
represent.  In  like  manner,  there  is  no  mutual  contradiction  between  the 
image  and  the  concept  of  the  Infinite  or  Absolute,  if  these  be  otherwise 
possible  ;  for  there  is  not  necessarily  involved  the  incompatibility  of  the 
one  act  of  cognition  with  the  other.] 

t  [The  terms  Infinite,  and  Absolute,  and  Unconditioned,  ought  not  to  bo 
confounded.  The  Unconditioned,  in  our  use  of  language,  denotes  the  ge- 
nus of  which  the  Infinite  and  Absolute  are  the  species. 

The  term  Absolute  is  of  twofold  (if  not  threefold)  ambiguity,  con'e- 
sponding  to  the  double  (or  treble)  signification  of  the  word  in  Latin. 

1.  Ahsolutum  means  what  is /reed  or  loosed;  in  which  sense,  the  Absolute 
will  he  what  is  aloof  from  relation,  comparison,  limitation,  condition,  de- 
pendence, etc.,  and  thus  is  tantamount  to  rd  umAvrov  of  the  lower  Greeks. 
In  this  meaning,  the  Absolute  is  not  opposed  to  the  Infinite. 

2.  Absolutum  means  Jinished,  perfected,  completed ;  in  which  sense,  the  Ab- 
solute will  be  what  is  out  of  relation,  etc.,  as  finished,  perfect,  complete, 


As  the  conditionally  limited  (which  we  may  briefly  call  the 
Conditioned)  is  thus  the  only  possible  object  of  knowledge  and 
of  positive  thought  —  thought  necessarily  supposes  conditions. 
To  think  is  to  condition  ;  and  conditional  Hmitation  is  the  fun- 
damental law  of  the  possibihty  of  thought.  For,  as  the  grey- 
hound cannot  outstrip  his  shadow,  nor  (by  a  more  appropriate 
simile)  the  eagle  outsoar  the  atmosphere  in  wliich  he  floats,  and 
by  which  alone  he  is  supported ;  so  the  mind  cannot  transcend 
that  sphere  of  limitation,  within  and  tlirough  which  exclusively 
the  possibility  of  thought  is  realized.  Thought  is  only  of  the 
Conditioned ;  because,  as  we  have  said,  to  think  is  simply  to 
condition.  The  Absolute  is  conceived  merely  by  a  negation  of 
conceivability ;  and  all  that  we  know,  is  only  known  as 

" won  from  the  void  and  formless  Infinite" 


How,  indeed,  it  could  ever  be  doubted  that  thought  is  only  of 
the  Conditioned,  may  well  be  deemed  a  matter  of  the  profound- 
est  admiration.  Thought  cannot  transcend  consciousness ;  con- 
sciousness is  only  possible  under  the  antithesis  of  a  subject  and 
object  of  thought,  known  only  in  correlation,  and  mutually  lim- 
iting each  other ;  while,  independently  of  all  this,  all  that  we 
know  either  of  subject  or  object,  either  of  mind  or  matter,  is 

total,  and  thus  corresponds  to  to  bhiv  and  rd  Teletov  of  Aristotle.  In  this 
acceptation  —  and  it  is  that  in  which  for  myself  I  exclusively  use  it— tho 
Absolute  is  diametrically  opposed  to,  is  contradictory  of,  the  Infinite. 

Besides  these  two  meanings,  there  is  to  be  noticed  the  use  of  the  word, 
for  the  most  part  in  its  adverbial  form-,— absolutely  (absolute)  in  the  sense 
of  siniphj,  simpliciter  [anlib^),  that  is,  considered  in  and  for  itself  —  consid- 
ered not  in  relation.  This  holds  a  similar  analogy  to  the  two  former 
meanings  of  absolute,  which  the  Indefii^e  {to  uopiarov)  does  to  the  Infi- 
nite {rd  uTZEipov).  It  is  subjective  as  they  are  objective;  it  is  in  our 
thought  as  they  are  in  their  own  existence.  This  application  is  to  be  dis- 
counted, as  here  irrelevant.] 

[The  Infinite  and  Absolute  are  only  the  names  of  two  counter  imbecili- 
ties of  the  human  mind,  transmuted  into  properties  of  the  nature  of  things 
—  of  two  subjective  negations,  converted  into  objective  affirmations.  We 
tire  ourselves,  either  in  adding  to,  or  in  taking  from.  Some,  more  reasona- 
bly, call  the  thing  unfinishable  — i/i/injfe;  others,  less  rationally,  call  it  fin- 
ished —absolute.    But  in  both  cases,  the  metastasis  is  in  itself  irrational.] 


526 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


only  a  knowledge  in  each  of  the  particular,  of  the  plural,  of  the 
different,  of  the  modified,  of  the  phjenomenal.  We  admit  that 
the  consequence  of  this  doctrine  is  —  that  philosopliy,  if  viewed 
as  more  than  a  science  of  the  Conditioned,  —  is  impossible.  De- 
parting from  the  particular,  we  admit  that  we  can  never,  in  our 
highest  generalizations,  rise  above  the  Finite ;  that  our  knowl- 
edge, whether  of  mind  or  matter,  can  be  nothing  more  than  a 
knowledge  of  the  relative  manifestations  of  an  existence,  which, 
in  itself,  it  is  our  highest  wisdom  to  recognize  as  beyond  the 
reach  of  philosophy ;  —  in  the  language  of  St.  Austin  —  "  cog- 
noscendo  ignorari,  et  ignorando  cognosci" 

The  Conditioned  is  the  mean  between  two  extremes  —  two 
inconditionates,  exclusive  of  each  other,  neither  of  which  can  he 
conceived  as  possible,  but  of  which,  on  the  principles  of  Contra- 
diction and  Excluded  Middle,  one  must  be  admitted  as  necessary. 
On  this  opinion,  therefore,  our  faculties  are  shown  to  be  weak, 
but  not  deceitful.  The  mind  is  not  represented  as  conceiving 
two  propositions  subversive  of  each  other,  as  equally  possible ; 
but  only,  as  unable  to  understand  as  possible  either  of  two  ex- 
tremes ;  one  of  wliich,  however,  on  the  ground  of  their  mutual 
repugnance,  it  is  compelled  to  recognize  as  true.  We  are  thus 
taught  the  salutary  lesson,  that  the  capacity  of  thought  is  not  to 
be  constituted  into  the  measure  of  existence ;  and  are  warned 
from  recognizing  the  domain  of  our  knowledge  as  necessarily  co- 
extensive with  the  horizon  of  our  faith.  And  by  a  wonderful 
revelation,  we  are  thus,  in  the  very  consciousness  of  our  inabil- 
ity to  conceive  aught  above  the  relative  and  finite,  inspired  with 
a  behef  in  the  existence  of  something  unconditioned  beyond  the 
sphere  of  all  comprehensible  reality.*]  —  Discussions. 

m 
*  [True,  therefore,  are  the  declarations  of  a  pious  philosophy :  "A  God 

understood  would  be  no  God  at  all ;  "  —  "To  think  that  God  is,  as  we  can 
think  him  to  be,  is  blasphemy." — The  Divinity,  in  a  certain  sense,  is  re- 
vealed; in  a  certain  sense,  is  concealed:  He  is  at  once  known  and  un- 
known. But  the  last  and  hij,'hest  consecration  of  all  true  religion  must  be 
an  altar  —  'AyvcjOTu  Oeu  —  "To  the  iinknoivn  and  unknowable  God.**  In 
this  consummation,  nature  and  revelation,  paganism  and  Christianity,  are 
at  one :  and  from  either  source  the  testimonies  are  so  numerous  that  I  must 
refrain  from  quoting  any.] 


n 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED.  527 

[In  his  criticism  of  Cousin^s  philosophy,  Hamilton  argues 
further :]  [Our  author  maintains  that  the  idea  of  the  infinite,  or 
absolute,  and  the  idea  of  the  finite  or  relative,  are  equally  real, 
because  the  notion  of  the  one  necessarily  suggests  the  notion  of 
the  other. 

Correlatives  certainly  suggest  each  other,  but  correlatives 
may,  or  may  not,  be  equally  real  and  positive.     In  thou-ht 
contradictories  necessarily  imply  each  other,  for  the  knowledge 
of  contradictories  is  one.     But  the  reality  of  one  contradictory, 
so  far  from  guaranteeing  the  reality  of  the  other,  is  nothing 
else  than  its  negation.     Thus  every  positive  notion  (the  concept 
of  a  thmg  by  what  it  is)  suggests  a  negative  notion  (the  con- 
cept of  a  thing  by  what  it  is  not)  ;   and  the  highest  positive 
notion,  the  notion  of  the  conceivable,  is  not  witliout  its  corre- 
sponding  negative  in   the  notion  of  the   inconceivable.     But 
though  these  mutuaUy  suggest  each  other,  the  positive  alone  is 
real;   the   negative   is   only  an  abstraction   of  the  other,  and 
in  the  highest  generality,  even  an  abstraction  of  thought  itself.] 
[The  philosophy  of  the  Conditioned,  even  from  thc^  preceding 
outline,  is,  it  will  be  seen,  the  express  converse  of  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  Absolute  — at  least,  as  this  system  has  been  latterly 
evolved  in  Germany.     For  this  asserts  to  man  a  knowledc^e  of 
the  Unconditioned  — of  the  Absolute  and  Infinite;  while'' that 
denies  to  him  a  knowledge  of  either,  and  maintains,  all  which 
we  immediately  know,  or  can  know,  to  be  only  the  Conditioned, 
the  Relative,  the  Phaenomenal,  the  Finite.     The  one,  supposing 
knowledge  to  be  only  of  existence  in  itself,  and  existence  in  it- 
self to   be   apprehended,   and   even   understood,   proclaims  — 
"  Understand  that  you  may  believe,"  ("  Intellige  ut  credas  ")  ; 
tlie  other,  supposing  that  existence,  in  itself,  is  unknown,  that 
apprehension  is  only  of  phienomena,  and  that  these  are  received 
only  upon  trust,  a^  incomprehensibly  revealed  facts,  proclaims 
with    the    Prophet -"Believe    that    ye    may    understand," 
"  Crede  ut  intelligas."]  —  Discussions, 

This  is  the  only  orthodox  inference.  —  I  shall  only  add  in  con- 
clusion, tliat,  as  this  is  the  one  true,  it  is  the  only  orthodox, 
inference.     We  must  beheve  in  i\,^  infinity  of  God ;  but  the 


528 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


infinite  God  cannot  by  us,  in  the  present  limitation  of  our  facul- 
ties, be  comprehended  or  conceived.  A  Deity  understood, 
would  be  no  Deity  at  all ;  and  it  is  blasphemy  to  say  that  God 
only  is  as  we  are  able  to  think  Him  to  be.  We  know  God 
according  to  the  finitude  of  our  faculties ;  but  we  believe  much 
that  we  are  incompetent  properly  to  know.  The  Infinite,  the 
infinite  God,  is  what,  to  use  the  words  of  Pascal,  is  infinitely 
inconceivable.  Faith,  —  BeHef,  —  is  the  organ  by  which  we 
apprehend  what  is  beyond  our  knowledge.  In  this  all  Divines 
and  Philosophers,  worthy  of  the  name,  are  found  to  coincide ; 
and  the  few  who  assert  to  man  a  knowledge  of  the  infinite,  do 
this  on  the  daring,  the  extravagant,  the  paradoxical  supposition, 
either  that  Human  Reason  is  identical  with  the  Divine,  or  that 
Man  and  the  Absolute  are  one. 

The  assertion  has,  however,  sometimes  been  hazarded,  through 
a  mere  mistake  of  the  object  of  knowledge  or  conception ;  as  if 
that  could  be  an  object  of  knowledge,  which  was  not  known ;  as 
if  that  could  be  an  object  of  conception,  which  was  not  conceived. 

It  has  been  held,  that  the  Infinite  is  known  or  conceived, 
though  only  a  part  of  it  (and  every  part,  be  it  observed,  is  ipso 
facto  finite)  can  be  apprehended  ;  and  Aristotle's  definition  of 
the  infinite  has  been  adopted  by  those  who  disregard  his  declara- 
tion, that  the  infinite,  qua  infinite,  is  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
understanding.  2h  say  that  the  infinite  can  he  thought^  but  only 
inadequately  thought^  is  a  contradiction  in  adjecto ;  it  is  the 
same  as  saying,  that  the  infinite  can  be  known,  but  only  known 
as  finite. 

The  Scriptures  explicitly  declare  that  the  infinite  is  for  us 
now  incognizable  ;  —  they  declare  that  the  finite,  and  the  finite 
alone,  is  within  our  reach.  It  is  said  (to  cite  one  text  out  of 
many),  that  "  now  I  know  in  part "  {i,  e.  the  finite)  ;  "  but  then  " 
(i.  e.  in  the  life  to  come)  "  shall  I  know  even  as  I  am  known  " 
(i.  e.  without  hmitation).* 


*  [In  a  private  letter,  Hamilton  replied  as  follows  to  some  objections 
which  Mr.  H.  Calderwood  had  made  to  his  doctrine  of  "  The  Infinite."] 
[The  Infinite  which  I  contemplate  is  considered  only  as  in  thowjht ;  the 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


529 


Infinite  beyond  thought  being,  it  may  be,  an  object  of  belief,  but  not  of 
knowledge.     This  consideration  obviates  manj-  of  your  objections. 

The  sphere  of  our  belief  is  much  more  extensive  than  the  sphere  of  our 
knowledge ;  and,  therefore,  when  I  deny  that  the  Infinite  can  by  us  be 
hiown,  I  am  far  from  denying  that  by  us  it  is,  must,  and  ought  to  be,  be- 
lieved.  This  I  have  indeed  anxiously  evinced,  both  by  reasoning  Lnd 
authority.  When,  therefore,  you  maintain,  that  in  denving  to  man  any 
positive  cognizance  of  the  Infinite,  I  virtually  extenuate  iiis  belief  in  the  in- 
finitude of  Deity,  I  must  hold  you  to  be  wholly  wrong,  in  respect  both  of 
my  opinion,  and  of  the  theological  dogma  itself. 

Assuredly,  I  maintain  that  an  infinite  God  cannot  be  bv  us  (positively) 
comprehended.  But  the  Scriptures,  and  all  theologians  worthy  of  the  name 
assert  the  same.  Some  indeed  of  the  latter,  and  among  them  some  of  the 
most  illustrious  Fathers,  go  the  length  of  asserting,  that  "  an  understood 
God  is  no  God  at  all,"  and  that,  "if  we  maintain  God  to  be  as  we  think  he 
is,  we  blaspheme."  Hence  the  assertion  of  Augustine :  "  Deum  potius  ig- 
norantia  quam  scicntia  attingi." 

There  is  a  fundamental  difi-crence  between  Tlie  Tufmitc  {ro  "Er  koX  Hdv) 
and  a  relation  to  which  we  may  apply  the  term  infinite.     Thus,  Time  and 
Space  must  be  excluded  from  the  supposed  notion  of  The  Infinite;  for  The 
Infinite,  if  positively  thought  it  could  be,  must  be  thought  as  under  neither 
Space  nor  Time. 

You  maintain  {im^sim)  that  thought,  conception,  knowledge,  is  and  must 
be  finite,  whilst  the  object  of  thought,  etc.,  may  be  infinite.     This  appears  to 
me  to  be  erroneous,  and  even  contradictory    An  existence  can  only  be  an 
object  of  thought,  conception,  knowledge,  inasmuch  as  it  is   an  object 
thought,  conceived,  known  ;  as  such  only  does  it  fonn  a  constituent  of  the 
circle  of  thought,  conception,  knowledge.     A  thing  may  be  partly  known 
conceived,  thought,  —  partly  unknown,  etc.     But  that  ])art  of  it  only  which 
IS  thought,  can  be  an  object  of  thought,  etc. ;  whereas  the  part  of  it  not 
thought,  etc.,  is,  as  far  as  thought,  etc.,  is  concerned,  only  tantamount  to 
zero.     The  infinite,  therefore,  in  this  point  of  view,  can  be  no  object  of 
thought,  etc. ;  for  nothing  can  be  more  self-repugnant  than  the  assertion, 
that  we  know  the  infinite  through  a  finite  notion,  or  have  a  finite  knowledge 
of  iin  infinite  object  of  knowledge.  ° 

But  you  assert  {passim)  that  we  have  a  knowledge,  a  notion,  of  the  in- 
finite ;  at  the  same  time,  asserting  {passim)  that  this  knowledge  o'r  notion  is 

"inadequate,"  — "partial,"  — "imperfect,"  — "limited."  — "not  in  all  its 
extent,"  —  "  incomplete,"  —  "only  to  some  extent,"  —  "  in  a  certain  sense," 
—  "indistinct,"  etc.,  etc. 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  this  assertion  is  in  contradiction  of  what  you  also 
maintain,  that  "the  infinite  is  one  and  indivisible;  "  that  is,  that  having  no 
parts,  it  cannot  be  partinlbj  known.  But,  in  the  second  place,  this  also  sub- 
verts the  possibility  of  conceiving,  of  knowing,  the  Infinite;  for  as  partial, 

45 


530 


THE  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


inadequate,  not  in  all  its  extent,  etc.,  our  conception  includes  some  part  only 
of  the  object  supposed  infinite,  and  does  not  include  the  rest.  Our  knowl- 
edge is,  therefore,  by  your  own  account,  limited  and  finite ;  consequently, 
you  implicitly  admit  that  we  have  no  knowledge,  at  least  no  positive  knowl- 
edge, of  the  infinite.  J....,    „ 

Again,  as  stated,  you  describe  the  infinite  to  be  "one  and  mdivisible. 
Butm  conceive  as  'inseparable  into  parts  an  entity  which,  not  excluding, 
in  fact  includes,  the  worlds  of  mind  and  matter,  is  for  the  human  intellect 
utterly  improbable.  And  does  not  the  infinite  contain  the  finite  ?  If  it 
does,  then  it  contains  what  has  parts,  and  is  divisible ;  if  it  docs  not,  then 
it  is  exclusive :  the  finite  is  out  of  the  infinite  :  and  the  infinite  is  condi- 
tioned, limited,  restricted,  — fnite. 

You  controvert  my  assertion,  that,  to  conceive  a  thing  in  relation  is,  ipso 
facto,  to  conceive  it  as  finite ;  and  you  maintain  that  the  relative  is  not 
incompatible  with  infinity,  unless  it  be  also  restrictive.     But  restrictive,  I 
hold  the  relative  always  to  be,  and  therefore,  incompatible  with  The  InJinUe 
in  the  more  proper  signification  of  the  term,  though  infinity,  in  a  looser  sig- 
nification, may  be  applied  to  it.     My  seasons  for  this  arc  the  following : 
A  relation  is  always  a  particular  point  of  view ;  consequently,  the  things 
thought  as  relative  and  correlative  are  always  thought  restrictively,  in  so 
far  as  the  thought  of  the  one  discriminates  and  excludes  the  other,  and  like- 
wise all  things  not  conceived  in  the  same  special  or  relative  point  of  view. 
Thus,  if  we  "think  of  Socrates  and  Xanthii)pe  under  the  matrimonial  rela- 
tion, not  only  do  the  thoughts  of  Socrates  and  Xanthippe  exclude  each 
other  as  separate  existences,  and,  pro  tanto,  therefore  are  restrictive;  but 
thinking  of  Socrates  as  husband,  this  excludes  our  conception  of  him  as 
citizen,  etc.,  etc.     Or,  to  take  an  example  from  higher  relatives :  what  is 
thought,  as  the  ol>ject,  excludes  what  is  viewed  as  the  subject,  of  thought ;  and 
hence  the  necessity  which  coinpellcd  Schelling  and  other  absolutists  to  place 
The  Absolute  in  the  inditference  of  subject  and  object,  of  knowledge  and 
existence.     Again  :  we  conceive  God  in  the  relation  of  Creator,  and  in  so 
far  as  we  merely  conceive  Him  as  Creator,  we  do  not  conceive  him  as  un- 
conditione*d,  as  infinite ;  for  there  are  many  other  relations  of  the  Deity 
under  which  we  may  conceive  Him,  but  which  are  not  included  in  the 
relation  of  Creator.     In  so  far.  therefore,  as  we  conceive  God  only  in  this 
relation,  our  conception  of  Him  is  manifestly  restrictive.     Further,  the 
created  universe  is,  and  you  assert  it  to  be,  finite.     The  creation  is,  therefore, 
an  act,  of  however  great,  of  finite  power;  and  the  Creator  is  thus  thought 
only  in  a  finite  capacity.     God,  in  his  own  nature,  is  infinite ;  but  we  do 
not  positively  think  Him  as  infinite,  in  thinking  Him  under  the  relation  of 
the  Creator  of  a  finite  creation.     Finally,  let  us  suppose  the  created  uni- 
Terse  (which  you  do  not)  to  be  infinite ;  in  that  case,  we  should  be  reduced 
to  the  dilemma  of  asserting  two  infinities,  which  is  contradictory,  or  of 
asserting  the  supernal  absurdity,  that  God  the  Creator  is  finite,  and  the 
universe  created  by  Him  is  in^iniQ.]— Appendix. ^ 


I 


•i 


« 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY. -LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED  IN 
ITS  APPLICATION  TO  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  CAUSALITY. 

I  HAVE  been  desirous  to  explain  the  principle  of  the  Condi- 
tioned, as  out  of  it  we  are  able  not  only  to  explain  the  hallueina- 
tion  of  the  Absolute,  but  to  solve  some  of  the  most  momentous, 
and  liitherto  most  puzzling,  problems  of  mind.  In  particular, 
this  principle  affords  us,  I  think,  a  solution  of  tlie  two  great 
intellectual  principles  of  Cause  and  Effect,  and  of  Substance  and 
Pha^nomenon  or  Accident.  Both  are  only  applications  of  the 
prmciple  of  the  Conditioned,  in  different  relations. 

Of  all  questions  in  the  history  of  Philosophy,  that  concerning 
the  nature  and  genealogy  of  the  notion  of  Causality,  is,  perhaps" 
the  most  famous ;  and  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  a  comprehensive, 
though  necessarily  a  very  summary,  view  of  the  problem,  and 
of  the  attempts  which  have  been  made  at  its  solution. 

What  is  the  j)h€?iomeno7i  of  Causality.  —  But  before  proceed- 
ing to  consider  the  different  attempts  to  explain  the  phienom- 
enon,  it  is  proper  to  state  and  to  determine  what  the  pha^nom- 
enon  to  be  explained  really  is.  Nor  is  this  superfluous,  for  we 
shall  find  that  some  philosophers,  instead  of  accommodating  their 
solutions  to  the  problem,  have  accommodated  the  problem  to 
their  solutions. 

When  we  are  aware  of  something  which  begins  to  be,  we  are, 
by  the  necessity  of  our  intelligence,  constrained  to  believe  that 
it  has  a  Cause.  But  what  does  the  expression,  that  it  has  a 
cause,  signify  ?  If  we  analyze  our  thought,  we  shall  find  that  it 
snnply  means,  that  as  we  cannot  conceive  any  new  existence  to 
commence,  therefore,  all  tha^  is  now  seen  to  arise  under  a  new 

(531) 


532 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


appearance  had  previously  an  existence  under  a  prior  form. 
[We  are  constrained  to  think  that  what  now  appears  to  us  under 
a  new  form,  had  previously  an  existence  under  others  —  others 
conceivable  by  us  or  not.  These  others  (for  they  are  always 
plural)  are  called  its  cause;  and  a  cause,  or  more  properly 
causes,  we  cannot  but  suppose ;  for  a  cause  is  simply  every 
thinir  without  which  the  effect  would  not  result,  and  all  such 
concurring,  the  effect  cannot  but  result.]  —  Discussions.  We 
are  utterly  unable  to  realize  in  thought  the  possibility  of  the 
complement  of  existence  being  either  increased  or  diminished. 
We  are  unable,  on  the  one  hand,  to  conceive  nothing  becoming 
something,  —  or,  on  the  other,  something  becoming  nothing. 
When  God  is  said  to  create  out  of  nothing,  we  construe  this  to 
thought  by  supposing  that  He  evolves  existence  out  of  himself ; 
we  view  the  Creator  as  the  cause  of  the  universe.  "  Ex  nihilo 
nihil,  in  nihilum  nil  posse  reverti "  expresses,  in  its  purest  form, 
the  whole  intellectual  phoenomenon  of  causality. 

There  is  thus  conceived  an  absolute  tautology  between  the 
effect  and  its  causes.  We  think  the  causes  to  contain  all  that 
is  contained  in  the  effect ;  the  effect  to  contain  nothing  which 
was  not  contained  in  the  causes.  Take  an  example.  A  neutral 
salt  is  an  effect  of  the  conjunction  of  an  acid  and  alkali.  Here 
we  do  not,  and  here  we  cannot,  conceive  that,  in  effect,  any  new 
existence  has  been  added,  nor  can  we  conceive  that  any  has 
been  taken  away.  But  another  example :  —  Gunpowder  is  the 
effect  of  a  mixture  of  sulphur,  charcoal,  and  nitre,  and  these 
three  substances  are  again  the  effect,  —  result,  of  simpler  con- 
stituents, and  these  constituents  again  of  simpler  elements,  either 
known  or  conceived  to  exist.  Now,  in  all  this  series  of  com- 
positions, we  cannot  conceive  that  aught  begins  to  exist.  The 
gunpowder,  the  last  compound,  we  are  compelled  to  think,  con- 
tains precisely  the  same  quantum  of  existence  that  its  ultimate 
elements  contained,  prior  to  their  combination.  Well ;  we  ex- 
plode the  powder.  Can  we  conceive  that  existence  has  been 
diminished  by  the  annihilation  of  a  single  element  previously  in 
being,  or  increased  by  the  addition  of  a  single  element  which  was 
not  heretofore  in  nature  ?    "  Omnia  mutantur ;  nihil  interit,"  — 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


5o3 


is  what  we  think,  what  we  must  think.  This,  then,  is  the  mental 
phaenomenon  of  causality,  —  that  we  necessarily  deny  in  thought 
that  the  object  which  appears  to  begin  to  be,  really  so  begins  ; 
and  that  we  necessarily  identify  its  present  with  its  past  exist- 
ence. Here  it  is  not  requisite  that  we  should  know  under  what 
form,  under  what  combinations,  this  existence  was  previously 
realized ;  in  other  words,  it  is  not  requisite  that  we  should  know 
what  are  the  particular  causes  of  the  particular  effect.  The  dis- 
covery of  the  connection  of  determinate  causes  and  determinate 
effects  is  merely  contingent  and  individual,  —  merely  the  datum 
of  experience ;  but  the  principle  that  every  event  should  have 
its  causes,  is  necessary  and  universal,  and  is  imposed  on  us  as  a 
condition  of  our  human  intelligence  itself.  This  necessity  of  so 
thinking  is  the  only  phcenomenon  to  he  explained.  [The  question 
of  philosophy  is  not  concernmg  the  cause,  but  concerning  a 
cause.] 

Nor  are  philosophers,  in  general,  really  at  variance  in  their 
statement  of  the  problem.  However  divergent  in  their  mode 
of  explanation,  they  are  at  one  in  regard  to  the  matter  to  be 
explained.  But  there  is  one  exception.  Dr.  Brown  has  given 
a  very  different  account  of  the  phainomenon  in  question.  To 
a  statement  of  it,  I  sohcit  your  attention ;  for  as  his  theory  is 
solely  accommodated  to  his  view  of  the  phenomenon,  so  his  the- 
ory is  refuted  by  showing  that  his  view  of  the  phaenomenon  is 
erroneous. 

Now,  in  explaining  to  you  the  doctrine  of  Dr.  Brown,  I  am 
happy  to  avail  myself  of  the  assistance  of  [Prof.  John  Wilson] 
Dr.  Brown's  successor,  whose  metaphysical  acuteness  was  not 
the  least  remarkable  of  his  many  brilliant  quahties. 

Wilson's  confutation  of  Brown's  doctrine.  —  "The  distinct 
and  full  purport  of  Dr.  Bro^vn's  doctrine,  it  will  be  observed,  is 
this, —  that  when  we  apply  in  this  way  the  words  cause  and 
power,  we  attach  no  other  meaning  to  the  terms  than  what  he 
has  explained.  By  the  word  cause,  we  mean  no  more  than  that, 
in  this  instance,  the  spark  falling  is  the  event  immediately  prior 
to  the  explosion :  including  the  belief  that  in  all  cases  hitherto, 
when  a  spark  has  fallen  on  gunpowder  (of  course,  supposing 

45* 


534 


thp:  principle  of  causality. 


other  circumstances  the  same),  the  gunpowder  has  kindled ;  and 
that  whenever  a  spark  shall  again  so  fall,  the  grains  will  again 
take  fire.  The  present  immediate  priority,  and  the  past  and 
future  invariable  sequence  of  the  one  event  upon  the  other,  are 
all  the  ideas  that  the  mind  can  have  in  view  in  speaking  of 
the  event  in  that  instance  as  a  cause ;  and  in  speaking  of  the 
power  in  the  spark  to  produce  this  effect,  we  mean  merely  to 
express  the  invariableness  with  which  this  has  happened  and 

will  happen. 

"  This  is  the  doctrine  ;  and  the  author  submits  it  to  this  test :  — 
'  Let  any  one,'  he  says,  '  ask  himself  what  it  is  which  he  means 
by  the  term  "power,"/  and  without  contenting  himself  with  a 
few  phrases  that  signify  nothing,  reflect  before  he  give  his 
answer,  —  and  he  will  find  that  he  means  nothing  more  than 
in  that,  all  similar  circumstances,  the  explosion  of  gunpowder 
will  be  the  immediate  and  uniform  consequence  of  the  applica- 
tion of  a  spark, 

"  This  test,  indeed,  is  the  only  one  to  w^hich  the  question  can 
be  brought.  For  the  question  does  not  regard  causes  them- 
selves, but  solely  the  ideas  of  cause,  in  the  human  mind.  If, 
therefore,  every  one  to  whom  this  analysis  of  the  idea,  that  is  in 
his  mind  when  he  speaks  of  a  cause,  is  proposed,  finds,  on  com- 
paring it  with  what  passed  in  his  mind,  that  this  is  a  complete 
and  full  account  of  his  conception,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be 
said,  and  the  point  is  made  good.  By  that  sole  possible  test  the 
analysis  is,  in  such  a  case,  established.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
when  this  analysis  is  i)roposed,  as  containing  all  the  ideas  which 
we  annex  to  the  words  cause  and  power,  the  minds  of  most  men 
cannot  satisfy  tliemselves  that  it  is  complete,  but  are  still  pos- 
sessed with  a  strong  suspicion  that  there  is  something  more 
which  is  not  here  accounted  for,  —  then  the  analysis  is  not  yet 
established,  and  it  becomes  necessary  to  inquire  by  additional 
examination  of  the  subject,  what  that  more  may  be. 

"  Let  us  then  apply  the  test  by  which  Dr.  Brown  proposes 
that  the  truth  of  his  views  shall  be  tried.  Let  us  ask  ourselves 
what  we  mea^  when  we  say,  that  the  spark  has  power  to  kindle 
the  gunpowder,  —  that  the  powder  is  susceptible  of  being  kin- 


) 


THE  principle  OF  CAUSALITY. 


535 


I 


died  by  the  spark.  Do  we  mean  only  that  whenever  they  come 
together  this  will  happen  ?  Do  we  merely  predict  this  simple 
and  certain  futurity  ? 

"  We  do  not  fear  to  say,  that  when  we  speak  of  a  power  in 
one  substance  to  produce  a  change  in  another,  and  of  a  suscep- 
tibility of  such  change  in  that  other,  we  express  more  than  our 
belief  that  the  change  has  taken  and  will  take  place.     There  is 
more  in  our  mind  than  a  conviction  of  the  past  and  a  foresight 
of  tlie  future.     There  is,  besides  this,  the  conception  included 
of  a  fixed  constitution  of  their  nature,  which  determines  the 
•event,— a  constitution,  which,  while  it  lasts,  makes  the  event  a 
necessary  consequence  of  the  situation  in  which  the  objects  are 
placed.     We  should  say  then,  that  there  are  included  in  these 
terms,  '  power,'  and  *  susceptibility  of  change,'  two  ideas  which 
are  not  expressed  in  Dr.  Brown's  analysis,  — one  of  necessity, 
and  the  other  of  a  constitution  of  things,  in  which  that  necessity 
is  established.     Tliat  these  two  ideas  are  not  expressed  in  the 
terms  of  Dr.  Brown's  analysis,  is  seen  by  quoting  again  his 
words  :  —  ^  He  will  find  that  he  means  nothing  more  than  that, 
in  all  similar  circumstances,  iha  explosion  of  gunpowder  will  be 
the  immediate  and  uniform  consequence  of  the  application  of  a 
spark.' 

"  It  is  certain,  from  the  whole  tenor  of  his  work,  that  Dr. 
Brown  has  designed  to  exclude  the  idea  of  necessity  from  his 
analysis." 

Now  this  admirably  expresses  what  I  have  always  felt  is  the 

grand  and  fundamental  defect  in  Dr.  Brown's  theory, a  de- 

fv..t  which  renders  that  theory  ab  initio  worthless.  Brown  pro- 
fesses to  explain  the  phoenomenon  of  causality,  but,  previously 
to  explanation,  he  evacuates  the  pha3nomenon  of  all  that  deside- 
rates exi)lanation.  What  remains  in  the  phicnomenon,  after  the 
quality  of  necessity  is  tlirown,  or  rather  silently  allowed  to  drop 
out,  is  only  accidental,  —  only  a  consequence  of  the  essential 
cu'cumstance. 

Classification  of  opinions  respecting  the  Principle  of  Cans- 
ality.  —  The  opinions  in  regard  to  the  nature  and  origin  of  the 
principle  of  Causality,  in  so  far  as  that  principle  is  viewed  as  a 


536 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


subjective  phaenomenon,  —  as  a  judgment  of  the  human  mind, 
—  fall  into  two  ji^r^'at  categories.  The  first  category  (A)  com- 
prehends those  theories  which  consider  this  principle  as  Empir- 
ical, or  a  posteriori,  that  is,  as  derived  from  experience ;  the 
other  (B)  comprehends  those  which  view  it  as  Pure,  or  a  priori, 
that  is,  as  a  condition  of  intelligence  itself  These  two  primary 
genera  are,  however,  severally  subdivided  into  various  subordi- 
nate classes. 

The  former  category  (A),  under  which  this  principle  is  re- 
garded as  the  result  of  experience,  contains  tiuo  classes,  inasmuch 
as  the  causal  judgment  may  be  supposed  founded  either  (a)  on 
an  Original,  or  (b)  on  a  Derivative,  cognition.  Each  of  these 
again  is  divided  into  two,  according  as  the  principle  is  supposed 
to  have  an  objective,  or  a  subjective,  origin.  In  the  former  case, 
tliat  is,  where  the  cognition  is  supposed  to  be  original  and  unde- 
rived,  it  is  Objective,  or  rather  Objectivo-Objective,  when  held 
to  consist  in  an  immediate  perception  of  the  power  or  efficacy  of 
causes  in  the  external  and  internal  worlds  (1)  ;  and  Subjective, 
or  rather  Objectivo-Subjective,  when  viewed  as  given  in  a  self- 
consciousness  alojie  of  the  power  or  efficacy  of  our  own  volitions 
(2).  In  the  latter  case,  that  is,  where  the  cognition  is  supposed 
to  be  derivative,  if  objective,  it  is  viewed  as  a  product  of  Induc- 
tion and  Generalization  (3)  ;  if  subjective,  of  Association  and 

Custom  (4). 

In  like  manner,  the  latter  category  (B),  under  which  the 
causal  principle  is  considered  not  as  a  result,  but  as  a  condition, 
of  experience,  is  variously  divided  and  subdivided.  In  the  first 
place,  the  opinions  under  this  category  fall  into  tivo  classes,  inas- 
much as  some  regard  the  causal  judgment  (c)  as  an  Ultimate  or 
Primary  law  of  mind,  while  others  regard  it  (d)  as  a  Second- 
ary or  Derived,  Those  who  hold  the  former  doctrine,  in  view- 
ing it  as  a  simple  original  principle,  hold  likewise  that  it  is  a 
positive  act,  —  an  alfirmative  datum  of  intelligence.  This  class 
is  finally  subdivided  into  two  opinions.  For  some  hold  that 
the  causal  judgment,  as  necessary,  is  given  in  what  they  call 
"  the  principle  of  Causality,''  that  is,  the  principle  which  declares 
that  every  thing  which  begins  to  be,  must  have  its  cause  (5)  ; 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


537 


A    TABULAR   VIEW 


OF  THE 


i 


THEOEIES    IN    EEGAED    TO    THE    PEINCIPLE    OP 

CAUSALITY. 


i 


f         a. 
Original 

or 
Primitive. 


/ 


A. 


A  Posteriori. 


Judgment 

Causality  \ 

'  I 
as 


b. 

Derivative 
or 
\  Secondary. 


Object ivo-objective  and  Objectivo- 
subjective,  —  Perception  of  Causal 
Elliciency,  external  and  internal. 


Objectivo-subjective,  —  Perception 
of  Causal  Efficiency,  internal. 

3. 

Objective,  —  Induction,  Generaliza- 
tion. 


/         c. 

Original 

or 
Primitive. 


B. 

A  Priori. 


4. 

Subjective,  —  Association,    Custom, 
Habit. 

Necessary:  A  Special  Principle   of 
Intelligence. 


6. 

Contingent :  Expectation  of  the  Con- 
^    stancy  of  Nature. 


y 

V 


n. 


d. 

Derivative 
or        ( 
^  Secondary 


From  the  Law  of  Contradiction  {i.  e. 
Non-Contradiction) . 


8. 
^From  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned. 


Dik 


538 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


whilst  at  least  one  philosopher,  without  explicitly  denying  that 
the  causal  judgment  is  necessary,  would  identify  it  with  the 
principle  of  our  "  Expectation  of  the  Constancy  of  nature"  (6). 

Those  who  hold  that  it  can  be  analyzed  into  a  higher  princi- 
ple, also  hold  that  it  is  not  of  a  positive,  but  of  a  negative,  char- 
acter. These,  however,  are  divided  into  two  classes.  By 
some  it  has  been  maintained,  that  the  principle  of  Causality  can 
he  resolved  into  the  principle  of  Contradiction  (7),  which,  as  I 
formerly  stated  to  you,  ought  in  propriety  to  be  called  the  prin- 
ciple of  Non-Contradiction.  On  the  other  hand,  it  may  be 
(though  it  never  has  been)  argued,  that  the  judgment  of  Caus- 
ality can  he  analyzed  into  what  I  called  the  principle  of  the 
Conditioned^  —  the  principle  of  relativity  (8).  To  one  or  the 
other  of  these  eight  heads,  all  the  doctrines  that  have  been  ac- 
tually maintained  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  the  principle  in 
question,  may  be  referred ;  and  the  classification  is  the  better 
worthy  of  your  attention,  as  in  no  work  will  you  find  any 
attempt  at  even  an  enumeration  of  the  various  theories,  actual 
and  possible,  on  this  subject. 

An  adecjuate  discussion  of  these  several  heads,  and  a  special 
consideration  of  the  differences  of  the  individual  opinions  wliich 
they  comprehend,  would  far  exceed  our  limits.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, confine  myself  to  a  few  observations  on  the  value  of  these 
eight  doctrines  in  general,  without  descending  to  the  particular 
modifications  under  which  they  have  been  maintained  by  partic- 
ular {)hilosophers. 

1 .  External  Perception  of  causal  efficiency.  —  Of  these,  the 
first,  —  that  which  asserts  that  we  have  a  perception  of  the 
causal  agency,  as  we  have  a  perception  of  the  existence  of  ex- 
ternal objects,  —  this  opinion  has  been  always  held  in  combina- 
tion with  the  second,  —  that  which  maintains  that  we  are  self- 
conscious  of  efficiency ;  though  the  second  has  been  frequently 
held  by  philosophers  who  have  abandoned  the  first  as  untena- 
ble. Considering  them  together,  that  is,  as  forming  the  opinion 
that  we  directly  and  immediately  api)rehend  the  efficiency  of 
causes  both  external  and  internal,  —  tliis  opinion  is  refuted  by 
two  objections. 


1 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


539 


The  first  is,  that  we  have  no  such  apprehension,  —  no  such 
knowledge ;  the  second,  that  if  we  liad,  this  being  merely  em- 
pirical,—  merely  conversant  with  individual  instances,  could 
never  account  for  the  quality  of  necessity  and  universality 
which  accompanies  the  judgment  of  causality.  In  regard  to 
the  first  of  these  objections,  it  is  now  universally  admitted,  that 
we  have  no  perception  of  the  connection  of  cause  and  effect  in 
the  external  world.  For  example ;  when  one  billiard-ball  is  seen 
to  strike  another,  we  perceive  only  that  the  impulse  of  the  one 
is  followed  by  the  motion  of  the  other,  but  have  no  perception  of 
any  force  or  efficiency  in  the  first,  by  which  it  is  connected  with 
the  second,  in  the  relation  of  causality.  iHume  was  the  philoso- 
pher who  decided  the  opinion  of  the  world  on  this  point.  He 
was  not,  however,  the  first  who  stated  the  fact,  or  even  the 
reasoner  who  stated  it  most  clearly.  He,  however,  believed 
himself,  or  would  induce  us  to  beheve,  that  in  this  he  was  orig- 
inal. Speaking  of  this  point,  "  I  am  sensible,"  he  says,  "  that 
of  all  the  paradoxes,  which  I  have  had,  or  shall  hereafter  have, 
occasion  to  advance,  in  the  course  of  this  treatise,  the  present 
one  is  the  most  violent,  and  that  it  is  merely  by  dint  of  solid 
proof  and  reasoning  I  can  ever  hope  it  will  have  admission,  and 
overcome  the  inveterate  prejudices  of  mankind.  Before  we  are 
reconciled  to  this  doctrine,  how  often  must  we  repeat  to  ourselves, 
that  the  simple  view  of  any  two  objects  or  actions,  however 
related,  can  never  give  us  any  idea  of  power,  or  of  a  connection 
betwixt  them ;  that  this  idea  arises  from  the  repetition  of  their 
union  ;  that  the  repetition  neither  discovers  nor  causes  any  thing 
in  the  objects,  but  has  an  influence  only  on  the  mind,  by  that 
customary  transition  it  produces ;  that  this  customary  transition 
is,  therefore,  the  same  with  the  power  and  necessity ;  which  are 
consequently  qualities  of  perceptions,  not  of  objects,  and  are 
internally  felt  by  the  soul,  and  not  perceived  externally  in 
bodies  ?  " 

I  could  adduce  to  you  a  whole  army  of  pliilosophers  previous 
to  Hume,  who  had  announced  and  illustrated  the  fact.  As  far 
as  I  have  been  able  to  trace  it,  this  doctrine  was  first  promul- 
gated  towards  the  commencement  of  the  twelfth  century,  at 


640 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


Bagdad,  by  Algazel,  a  pious  Mohammedan  philosopher,  who 
not  undeservedly  obtained  the  title  of  Imaum  of  the  World: 
Algazel  did  not  deny  the  reality  of  causation,  but  he  maintained 
thai  God  was  the  only  efficient  cause  in  nature ;  and  that  second 
causes  were  not  properly  causes,  but  only  occasions,  of  the  effect. 
That  we  have  no  perception  of  any  real  agency  of  one  body  on 
another,  is  a  truth  which  has  not  more  clearly  been  stated  or 
illustrated  by  any  subsequent  philosopher  than  by  him  who  first 
proclaimed  it.     The  doctrine  of  Algazel  was  adopted  by  that 
great  sect  among  the  Mussulman  doctors,  who  were  styled  those 
speaking  in  the  law,  that  is,  the  law  of  Mohammed.     From  the 
Eastern  Schools,  the  opinion  passed  to  those  of  the  West ;  and 
we  find  it  a  problem  which  divided  the  Scholastic  philosophers, 
whether  God  were  the  only  efficient,  or  whether  causation  could 
be  attributed  to  created  existences.     After  the  Revival  of  Let- 
ters, the  opinion  of  Algazel  was  maintained  by  many  individual 
thinkers,  though  it  no  longer  retained  the  same  prominence  in 
the  Schools.     It  was  held,  for  example,  by  Malebranche,  and  his 
illustration  from  the  collision  of  two  billiard-balls  is  likewise  that 
of  Hume,  who  probably  borrowed  from  Malebranche  both  the 
opinion  and  the  example. 

2.  Internal  perception  of  causal  efficiency.— "Rni  there  are 
many  philosophers  who  surrender  the  external  perception,  and 
maintain  our  internal  consciousness,  of  causation  or  power.  This 
opinion  was,  in  one  chapter  of  his  Essay,  advanced  by  Locke, 
and,  at  a  very  recent  date,  it  has  been  amplified  and  enforced 
with  distinguished  ability  by  the  late  M.  Maine  de  Biran,— 
one  of  the  acutest  metaphysicians  of  France.  On  this  doctrine, 
the  notion  of  cause  is  not  given  to  us  by  the  observations  of 
external  pha^nomena,  which,  as  considered  only  by  the  senses, 
manifest  no  causal  efficiency,  and  appear  to  us  only  as  succes- 
sive ;  it  is  given  to  us  within,  in  reflection,  in  the  consciousness 
of  our  operations  and  of  the  power  which  exerts  them,  —  namely, 
the  will.  I  make  an  effort  to  move  my  arm,  and  I  move  it. 
Wlien  we  analyze  attentively  the  phaenomenon  of  effort,  which 
M.  de  Biran  considers  as  the  type  of  the  phcenomena  of  vohtion, 
the  following  are  the  results:  — 1°,  The  consciousness  of  an  act 


( 


I 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


541 


of  will ;  2°,  The  consciousness  of  a  motion  produced ;  3°,  A 
relation  of  the  motion  to  the  volition.  And  what  is  this  relation .? 
Not  a  simple  relation  of  succession.  The  will  is  not  for  us  a 
pure  act  without  efficiency,  — it  is  a  productive  energy ;  so  that, 
in  a  vohtion  there  is  given  to  us  the  notion  of  cause ;  and  this 
notion  we  subsequently  transport,  —  project  out  from  our  in- 
ternal activities,  into  the  changes  of  the  external  world. 

This  doctrine  shown  to  he  uiitenahle.  —  This  reasoning,  in  so 
far  as  regards  the  mere  empirical  fact  of  our  consciousness  of 
causahty,  in  the  relation  of  our  will  as  moving,  and  of  our  limbs 
as  moved,  is  refuted  by  the  consideration,  that   between  the 
overt  fact  of  corporeal  movement  of  which  we  are  cognizant, 
and  the  internal  act  of  mental  determination  of  which  we  are 
also  cognizant,  there  intervenes  a  numerous  series  of  intermedi- 
ate agencies  of  which  we  have  no  knowledge  ;  and,  consequently, 
that  we  can  have  no  consciousness  of  any  causal  connection 
between  the  extreme  hnks  of  this  chain,  — the  volition  to  move 
and  the  limb  moving,  as  this  hypothesis  asserts.     No  one  is 
immediately  conscious,  for  example,  of  moving  his  arm  through 
his  volition.     Previously  to  this  ultimate  movement,  muscles, 
nerves,  a  multitude  of  solid  and  fluid  parts, '  .ust  be  set  in  motion 
by  the  will ;  but  of  this  motion  we  know,  from  consciousness, 
absolutely  nothing.     A  person  struck  with  paralysis  is  conscious 
of  no  inability  in  his  limb  to  fulfil  the  determinations  of  his  will ; 
and  it  is  only  after  liaving  willed,  and  finding  that  his  limbs  do 
not  obey  his  volition,  that  he  learns  by  his  experience,  that  the 
external  movement  does  not  follow  the  internal  act.     But  as  the 
paralytic  learns  after  the  volition,  that  his  Umbs  do  not  obey  his 
mind ;  so  it  is  only  after  volition  th|t  the  man  in  health  learns, 
that  his  limbs  do  obey  the  mandates  of  his  will* 

*  [Elsewhere,  in  the  Dissertations  supplementary  to  Reid,  this  argument  is 
stated  by  Hamilton  as  follows  .] 

"  Volition  to  move  a  limb,  and  the  actual  moving  of  it,  are  the  first 
and  last  m  a  series  of  more  than  two  successive  events ;  and  cannot, 
therefore,  stand  to  each  other,  immediately,  in  the  relation  of  cause  and 
effect.  They  may,  however,  stand  to  each  other  in  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect,  mediately.    But,  then,  if  they  can  be  known  in  consciousness 

46 


542 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


But,  independently  of  all  this,  the  second  objection  above 
mentioned  is  fatal  to  the  theory  .vhich  would  found  the  judgment 

a8  thus  mediately  related,  it  is -a  necessary  condition  of  juch  knowledge 
that  the  intervening  scries  of  causes  and  etfects,  through  which  the  final 
movement  of  the  limb  is  supposed  to  be  mediately  dependent  on  the  pn- 
mary  volition  to  move,  should  be  known  to  consciousness   immediately 
under  that  relation.     But  this  intermediate,  this  connecting  series  is,  con- 
fessedly,  unknown  to  consciousness  at  all,  far  less  as  a  series  of  causes  and 
effects      It  follows,  therefore,  a  fortiori,  that  the  dependency  of  the  last 
on  the  first  of  these  events,  as  of  an  effect  upon  its  cause,  must  be  to  con- 
sciousness  unknown.     In  other  words, -having  no  consciousness  that  the 
volition  to  move  is  the  efficacious  force  (power)  by  which  even  the  event 
immediately  consequent  on  it  (say  the  transmission  of  the  nervous  influence 
from  brain  to  muscle)  is  produced,  such  event  being  in  fact  itself  to  con- 
sciousness  occult;  multo  minus  can  we  have  a  consciousness  of  that  volition 
being  the  efficacious  force  by  which  the  ultimate  movement  of  the  limb  is 

mediately  determined."  ,    •     c  *u^ 

[In  the  same  Dissertation,  Hamilton  gives  the  foUowing  analysis  of  the 

action  of  the  will  in  detennining  motion.] 

"  We  have  here  to  distinguish  three  things  :  — 

"  lo  The  still  immanent  or  purely  mental  act  of  will :  what,  for  distinc- 
tion's sake,  I  would  call  the  hyperor.janic  volition  to  move ;  -  the  ad.o  ehata 
of  the  Schools.     Of  this  volition  we  arc  conscious,  even  though  it  do  not  go 

out  into  overt  action.  n-    *  •*     n^cna 

"  2°  If  this  volition  become  transeunt,  be  carried  into  effect,  it  passes 
into  the  mental  eftbrt  or  nisus  to  move.  This  I  would  call  the  enorgamc 
volition,  or,  bv  an  extension  of  the  Scholastic  language,  the  ad.o  imperans. 
Of  this  we  are  immediately  conscious.  For  we  are  conscious  of  it,  though,  by  a 
narcosis  or  stupor  of  the  sensitive  nerves,  we  lose  all  feeling  of  the  movem.U  of 
the  limb ;  -  though  by  a  paralysis  of  the  motive  nerves,  no  movement  m  he 
limb  follows  the  mental  effort  to  move ;  -though  by  an  abnormal  stimulus 
of  the  muscular  fibres,  a  contraction  in  them  is  caused  even  in  opposition  to 

*""' Jo"  Determined  by  the  en^ganic  volition,  the  cerebral  influence  is 
transmitted  by  the  motive  nerves;  the  muscles  contract,  or  endeavor  to 
contract,  so  tliat  the  limb  moves  or  endeavors  to  move.  This  motion  or 
effort  to  move  I  would  call  the  organic  movement,  the  organic  msus ;  hy^ 
limitation  of  the  scholastic  term,  it  might  be  denominated  the  actio  tm- 

^'Tlti^in  th\sthirde\emmt-tho  organic  nisus  and  the  orr/an.c  movement - 
that  Sir  William  seeks  for  evidence  of  the  efficiency  of  the  will,  and  rightly 
declares  that  it  cannot  be  found.  We  agree  with  him.  -  Between  the  ex, 
treme  links  oUhis  chain, -that  is,  between  the  volition  to  move,  and  the 


! 


THE   PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


"7 

543 


of  causality  on  any  empirical  cognition,  whether  of  the  phaenom- 
ena  of  mind  or  of  the  phajnomena  of  matter.  Admitting  that 
causation  were  co^'nizable,  and  that  perception  and  self-con- 
sciousness were  competent  to  its  apprehension,  still  as  these 
faculties  could  only  take  note  of  individual  causations,  we  should 
be  wholly  unable,  out  of  such  empirical  acts,  to  evolve  the 
quahty  of  necessity  and  universality,  by  which  this  notion  is 

ai-m  moving,"  he  says,  "  there  intervenes  a  series  of  intermediate  agencies, 
of  which  we  are  wholly  unaware."  How  mind  operates  upon  matter,  — 
even  upon  the  matter  of  our  own  bodies,  with  which  we  are  so  intimately 
connected,  —  we  do  not  know.  How  the  action  of  the  will  is  communicated 
to  the  muscles,  —  whether  by  one,  two,  or  three  intermediate  steps,  —  we  do 
not  know. 

But  we  find  proof  of  the  efficiency  of  volition  in  the  second  of  our  author's 
three  elements,  where  his  language,  which  we  have  italicized,  is  so  explicit 
that  it  seems  strange  the  conclusion  could  have  escaped  him.  By  the 
"  enorganic  volition,"  we  understand  neither  "  the  still  immanent  or  purely 
mental  act,"  nor  yet  the  organic  nisus  or  movement  which  is  wholly  exterior 
to  the  mind,  but  the  transeunt  act  from  one  to  the  other,  ilie  command, 
whether  it  is  obeyed  or  not;  — and  of  this  enorganic  movement,  "we  are 
immediately  conscious,"  tliough  tlie  limb  may  be  paralyzed.  It  is  action, 
of  which  we  are  here  conscious ;  otherwise,  the  "  purely  mental  act  of  will " 
could  not  have  "  become  transeunt."  We  are  conscious  of  an  effort  in  this 
act  — conscious  of  putting  forth  power  — conscious  of  attempting  to  move  the 
muscles,  whetiier  they  obey  or  not.  The  laborer  is  not  more  clearly  con- 
scious that  he  has  tried  to  raise  the  rock.  It  is  certain,  also,  that  power  in 
action  is  necessarily  causative ;  it  forms  our  only  idea  of  causation.  It  must 
produce  an  effect,  though  perhaps  not  the  whole  effect  which  we  desire. 
Tiie  pressure  is  not  lost,  though  the  rock  does  not  move.  We  have,  then, 
the  direct  evidence  of  consciousness,  —  of  that  faculty  not  one  of  whose  dic- 
tates can  be  impeached,  —  that  the  will  is  a  true  cause  — an  efficient  cause, 
not  a  mere  antecedent— a  limited  cause,  indeed,  but  supreme  within  its  proper 
domain  —  no  always  suf  iicient  for  the  end  proposed,  but  always  ^ficient, 
or  expending  ibrce,  whicli  is  real,  though  often  inadequate.  We  have  here 
all  the  marks  or  tests,  by  which  efficient  causation  is  distinguished  from 
mere  antecedence.  In  the  case  of  material  phajnoracna,  the  result  can  be 
ascertained  only  by  experience ;  we  leani  only  by  trial,  that  one  substance  is 
soluble,  and  another  not,  — that  iron  expands,  and  clay  contracts,  in  the 
fire.  But  in  the  case  of  mental  exertion,  the  result  to  be  accomplished  is 
preconsidered,  or  meditated,  and  is  therefore  known  a  priori,  or  before  expe- 
rience ;  the  volition  succeeds,  which  is  a  true  effort,  or  power  in  action ; 
and  this  is  necessarily  followed  by  an  effect,  partial  or  complete.]  —Am.  Ed. 


544 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


distinguished.  Admitting  that  we  had  really  observed  the 
agency  of  any  number  of  causes,  still  this  would  not  explain  to 
us,  how  we  are  unable  to  think  a  manifestation  of  existence 
without  thinking  it  as  an  effect.  Our  internal  experience, 
especially  in  the  relation  of  our  volitions  to  their  effects,  may  be 
useful  in  giving  us  a  clearer  notion  of  causality  ;  but  it  is  alto- 
gether incompetent  to  account  for  what  in  it  there  is  of  the 
quality  of  necessity.  So  much  for  the  two  theories  at  the  head 
of  the  Table. 

As  the  first  and  second  opinions  have  been  usually  associated, 
so  also  have  the  third  and  fourth  ;  —  that  is,  the  doctrine  that  our 
notion  of  causality  is  the  offspring  of  the  objective  principle  of 
Induction  or  Generalization,  and  the  doctrine  that  it  is  the  off- 
spring of  the  subjective  principle  of  Association  or  Custom. 

3.  Judgment  of  Causality  obtained  from  Induction  and  Gen- 
eralization. —  In  regard  to  the  former,  —  the  third,  it  is  plain 
that  the  observation,  that  certain  pha^noraena  are  found  to  suc- 
ceed certain  other  pha3nomena,  and  the  generalization  conse- 
quent thereon,  that  these  are  reciprocally  causes  and  effects, 
could  never  of  itself  have  engendered,  not  only  the  strong,  but 
the  irresistible  belief,  that  every  event  must  have  its  cause. 
Each  of  these  observations  is  contingent ;  and  any  number  of 
observed  contingencies  will  never  impose  upon  us  the  feeling  of 
necessity,  —  of  our  inability  to  think  the  opposite.  Nay  more, 
this  theory  evolves  the  absolute  notion  of  causality  out  of  the 
observation  of  a  certain  number  of  uniform  consecutions  amonor 
phienoniena  ;  [that  is,  it  would  collect  that  all  must  he,  because 
some  are.']  But  we  find  no  difficulty  whatever  in  conceiving 
the  reverse  of  all  or  any  of  the  consecutions  we  have  observed ; 
and  yet  the  general  notion  of  causality,  which,  ex  hypothesi,  is 
their  result,  we  cannot  possibly  think  as  possibly  unreal.  We 
have  always  seen  a  stone  fall  to  the  ground,  when  thrown  into 
the  air ;  but  we  find  no  difficulty  in  representing  to  ourselves  the 
possibility  of  one  or  all  stones  gravitating  from  the  earth  ;  only 
we  cannot  conceive  the  possibility  of  this,  or  any  other  event, 
happening  without -a  cause. 

4.  From  Association  and  Custom.  —  Nor  does  the  latter,  — . 


the  fourth  theory,  —  that  of  Custom  or  Association,  —  afford  a 
better  solution.     The  necessity  of  so  thinking  cannot  be  derived 
from  a  custom  of  so  thinking.     Allow  the  force  of  custom  to  be 
great  as  may  be,  still  it  is  always  limited  to  the  customary ;  and 
the  customary  has  nothing  whatever  in  it  of  the  necessary.     But 
we  have  here  to  account  not  for  a  strong,  but/or  an  absolutely 
irresistible  belief     On  this  theory,  also,  the  causal  judgment, 
when  association  is  recent,  should  be  weak,  and  should  only 
gradually  acquire  its  full  force  in  proportion  as  custom  becomes 
mveterate.     But  do  we  find  that  the  causal  judgment  is  weaker 
in  the  young,  stronger  in  the  old  ?     There  is  no  difference.     In 
either  case,  there  is  no  less  and  no  more ;  the  necessity  in  both 
is  absolute.     Mr.  Hume  patronized  the  opinion,  that  the  notion 
of  causality  is  the  offspring  of  experience  engendered  upon  cus- 
tom.    But  those  have  a  sorry  insight  into  the  philosophy  of  that 
great  thinker,  who  suppose  that  this  was  a  dogmatic  theory  of  his 
own.     On  the  contrary,  in  his  hands,  it  was'  a  mere  reduction  of 
dogmatism  to  absurdity,  by  showing  the  inconsistency  of  its 
results.     To  the  Lockian  sensuahsm,  Hume  proposed  the  prob- 
lem,—to  account  for  the  pheenomenon  of  necessity  in  our  notion 
of  the  causal  nexus.     That  philosophy  afforded  no  other  princi- 
ple through  which  even  the  attempt  at  a  solution  could  be 
made ;  —  and  the  principle  of  custom,  Hume  shows,  could  not 
furnish  a  real  necessity.     The  alternative  was  plain.     Either 
the  doctrine  of  sensualism  is  false,  or  our  nature  is  a  delusion. 
Shallow  thinkers  adopted  the  latter  alternative,  and  were  lost ; 
profound  thinkers,  on  the  contrary,  were  determined  to  lay  a 
deeper  foundation  of  philosophy  than   that  of  the  superficial 
edifice  of  Locke  ;  and  thus  it  is  that  Hume  became  ih^  ciiuse, 
or  the  occasion,  of  all  that  is  of  principal  value  in  our  more 
recent  metapliysics.     Hume  is  the  parent  of  the  philosophy  of 
Kant,  and,  through  Kant,  of  the  whole  philosophy  of  Germany ; 
he  is  the  parent  of  the  philosophy  of  Reid  and  Stewart  in  Scot-' 
land,  and  of  all  that  is  of  preeminent  note  in  the  metaphysics  of 
France  and  Italy.  —  But  to  return. 

5.    Causality  a  special  principle  of  intelligence.  —  I  now  come 
to  the  second  category  (B),  and  to  the  first  of  the  four  particu- 

46* 


/ 


546 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY. 


lar  heads  wliicli  it  likewise  contains,  —  the  opinion,  namely,  that 
the  judgment,  that  every  thing  that  begins  to  be  must  have  a 
cause,  is  a  simple  primary  datum,  a  positive  revelation  of  intel- 
ligence. To  this  head  are  to  be  referred  the  theories  on  causal- 
ity of  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  Reid,  Stewart,  Kant,  Fichte,  Cousin, 
and  the  majority  of  recent  philosophers.  This  is  the  fifth 
theory  in  order. 

Now  it  is  manifest,  that,  against  the  assumption  of  a  special 
principle,  which  tliis  doctrine  makes,  there  exists  a  primary  pre- 
sumption of  philosophy.     This  is  the  law  of  Parcimony,  which 
forbids,  without  necessity,  the  multiplication  of  entities,  powers, 
principles,  or  causes ;  above  all,  the  postulation  of  an  nnJcnown 
force,  where  a   known   impotence  can  account   for    the  effect. 
We  are,  therefore,  entitled  to  apply  Occam's   razor*  to   this 
theory  of  causality,  unless  it  be  proved  impossible  to  explain 
the  causal  judgment  at  a  cheaper  rate,  by  deriving  it  from  a 
higher,  and  that  a  negative,  origin.     On  a  doctrine  like  the  pres- 
ent is  thrown  the  onus  of  vindicating  its  necessity,  by  showing 
that,  unless  a  special  and  positive  principle  be  assumed,  there 
exists  no  competent  mode  to  save  the  phoenomena.     It  can  only, 
therefore,  be  admitted  provisorily ;  and  it  fjills  of  course,  if  the 
pha3nomenon  it  would  explain  can  be  explained  on  less  onerous 
conditions.     Leaving,    therefore,   the    theory   to   stand    or   fall 
according  as  the  two  remaining  opinions  are  or  are  not  found 
insufficient,  I  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  these. 

6.  Expectation  of  the  constancy  of  nature.  —  Dr.  Brown  has 
promulgated  a  doctrine  of  Causality,  which  may  be  numbered 
as  the  sixth ;  though  perhaps  it  is  hardly  deserving  of  distinct 
enumeration.  He  actually  identifies  the  causal  judgment, 
which  to  us  is  necessary,  with  the  principle  by  which  we  are 

*  [The  dictum,  entia  non  multipUcanda  mnt  pater  uecessitatem,  first  ex- 
plicitly applied  by  Occam  as  a  summary  means  of  refuting  arbitrary  and 
unnecessary  hypotheses,  has  been  called  "  Occam's  razor."  Hamilton  usu- 
ally calls  it  the  **  Law  of  Parcimony,"  and  elsewhere  says  that  "  it  has 
never  perhaps  been  adequately  enounced.  It  should  be  thus  expressed :  — 
Neither  moke,  nor  more  onerous,  causes  are  to  be  assumed  than  are  neces- 
sary to  account  fur  the  phmiomaia."]—Am.  Ed. 


! 


^. 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF   CAUSALITY. 


547 


merely  inclined  to  believe  in  the  uniformity  of  nature's  opera- 
tions. [But  apart  from  all  subordinate  objections,  it  is  sufficient 
to  say,  that  the  phaenomenon  to  be  explained  is  the  necessity  of 
thinking  —  the  absolute  impossibility  of  not  thinking  —  a  cause ; 
whilst  all  that  the  latter  principle  pretends  to,  is,  to  incline  us  to 
expect  that  like  antecedents  will  be  followed  by  like  consequents. 
This  necessity  to  suppose  a  cause  for  every  phaenomenon,  Dr. 
Brown,  if  he  does  not  expressly  deny,  keeps  cautiously  out  of 
view,  —  virtually,  in  fact,  eliminating  all  that  requires  explana- 
tion in  the  problem.]  —  Discussions. 

7.    The  Judgment  of  Causality  demonstrable  by  abstract  rea- 
soning,—  i.  e.  by  the  Principle  of  Contradiction.  —  The  sev- 
enth is  a  doctrine  that  has  long  been  exploded.     It  attempts  to 
establish  the  principle  of  Causality  upon  the  principle  of  Con- 
tradiction.    Leibnitz  was  too  acute  a  metaphysician  to  attempt 
to  prove  the  principle  of  Sufficient  Reason  or  Causality,  which 
is  an  ampliative  or  synthetic  principle,  by  the  principle  of  Con- 
tradiction, which  is  merely  explicative  or  analytic.     But  his  fol- 
lowers were  not  so  wise.     Wolf,  Baumgarten,  and  many  other 
Leibnitzians,  paraded  demonstrations  of  the  law  of  the  Suffi- 
cient Reason,  on  the  ground  of  the  law  of  Contradiction  ;  but 
the  reasoning  alwf^ys  proceeds  on  the  covert  assumption  of  the 
very  point  in  question.     The  same  argument  is,  however,  at  an 
earlier  date,  to  be  found  in  Locke,  and  modifications  of  it  in 
Hobbes  and  Clarke.     Hume,  who  was  only  aware  of  the  argu- 
ment as  in  the  hands  of  the  English  metaphysicians,  has  given 
it  a  refutation,  which  has  earned  the  approbation  of  Reid ;  and 
by  foreign  philosophers,  its  emptiness  in  the  hands  of  the  Wolf- 
ian  metaphysicians  has  frequently  been  exposed.     Listen  to  the 
pretended    demonstration:  —  Whatever   is  produced  ivithout^  a 
cause,  is  produced  by  nothing,  —  in  other  words,  has  nothing  for 
its  cause.     But  nothing  can  no  more  be  a  cause,  than  it  can  be 
something.      The  same  intuition  that  makes  us  aware,  that  noth- 
ing is  not  something,  shows  us  that  every  thing  jnust  have  a  real 
cause  of  its  existence.     To  this  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  the 
existence  of  causes  being  the  point  in  question,  the  existence  of 
causes  must  not  be  taken  for  granted  in  the  very  reasoning 


548 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  CAUSALITY 


which  attempts  to  prove  their  reality.  In  excluding  causes,  we 
exclude  all  causes ;  and  consequently  exclude  "  nothing  "  con- 
sidered as  a  cause ;  it  is  not,  therefore,  allowable,  contrary  to 
that  exclusion,  to  suppose  "  nothing  "  as  a  cause,  and  then  from 
the  absurdity  of  that  supposition  to  infer  the  absurdity  of  the 
exclusion  itself.  If  every  thing  must  have  a  cause,  it  follows 
that,  upon  the  exclusion  of  other  causes,  we  must  accept  of 
nothing  as  a  cause.  But  it  is  the  very  point  at  issue,  whether 
every  thing  must  have  a  cause  or  not ;  and,  therefore,  it  violates 
the  first  principles  of  reasoning  to  take  this  quaesitum  itself  as 
granted.     This  opinion  is  now  universally  abandoned. 

8.  A  result  of  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned,  —  The  eighth 
and  last  opinion  is  that  which  regards  the  judgment  of  causality 
as  derived ;  and  derives  it  not  from  a  power,  but  from  an  impo- 
tence, of  mind ;  in  a  word,  from  the  principle  of  the  Conditioned. 
I  do  not  think  it  possible,  without  a  detailed  exposition  of  the 
various  categories  of  thouglit,  to  make  you  fully  understand  the 
grounds  and  bearings  of  this  opinion.  In  attempting  to  explain, 
you  must,  therefore,  allow  me  to  take  for  granted  certain  laws 
of  thought,  to  which  I  have  only  been  able  incidentally  to  al- 
lude. Those,  however,  which  I  postulate,  are  such  as  are  now 
generally  admitted  by  all  philosophers  who  allow  the  mind 
itself  to  be  a  source  of  cognitions ;  and  the  only  one  which  has 
not  been  recognized  by  them,  but  which,  as  I  endeavored 
briefly  to  prove,  must  likewise  be  taken  into  account,  is  the  Law 
of  the  Conditioned,  —  the  law  that  the  conceivable  has  always 
two  opposite  extremes,  and  that  the  extremes  are  equally  incon- 
ceivable. That  the  Conditioned  is  to  be  viewed,  not  as  a  power, 
but  as  a  powerlessness  of  mind,  is  evinced  by  this,  —  that  the 
two  extremes  are  contradictories,  and,  as  contradictories,  though 
neither  alternative  can  be  conceived,  —  thought  as  possible,  one  or 
other  must  be  admitted  to  be  necessary. 

Causality  deduced  from  this  law  through  the  three  Categories 
of  thought.  —  Philosophers  who  allow  a  native  principle  to  the 
mind  at  all,  allow  that  Existence  is  such  a  principle.  I  shall, 
therefore,  take  for  granted  Existence  as  the  highest  category  or 
condition  of  thought.     As  I  noticed   in   the    last  chapter,  no 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


549 


thought  is  possible  except  under  this  category.     All  that  we 
perceive  or  imagine  as  different  from  us,  we  perceive  or  imag- 
ine as  objectively  existent.     All  that  we  are  conscious  of  as  an 
act  or  modification  of  self,  we  are  •conscious  of  only  as  subjec- 
tively existent.     All  thought,  therefore,  implies  the  thought  of 
existence  ;  and  this  is  the  veritable  exposition  of  the  enthymeme 
of  Descartes,  — Co^TiVo  ergo  sum.     I  cannot  think  tliat  I  think, 
without  thinking  that  I  exist,  —  I  cannot  be  conscious,  without 
being  conscious  that  I  am.     Let  existence,  then,  be  laid  down  as 
a  necessary  form  of  thought.     As  a  second  category  or  subjec- 
tive condition  of  thought,  I  postulate  that  of  Time.     This,  like- 
wise, cannot  be  denied  me.     It  is  the  necessary  condition  of 
every  conscious  act ;  thought  is  only  realized  to  us  as  in  succes- 
sion, and  succession  is  only  conceived  by  us  under  the  concept 
of  time.     Existence  and  Existence  in  Time  is  thus  an  elemen- 
tary  form  of  our  intelligence.     But  we  do  not  conceive  existence 
in  time  absolutely  or  infinitely,  —  we  conceive  it  only  as  condi- 
tioned in  time ;  and  Existence  Conditioned  in  Time  expresses, 
at  once  and  in  relation,  the  three  categories  of  thought  which 
afford  us  in  combination  the  principle  of  Causality.     This  re- 
quires some  explanation. 

When  we  perceive  or  imagine  an  object,  we  perceive  or  im- 
agine it— - 1°,  As  existent,  and,  2°,  As  in  Time ;  Existence  and 
Time  being  categories  of  all  thought.  But  what  is  meant  by 
saying,  I  perceive,  or  imagine,  or,  in  general,  think  an  object 
only  as  I  perceive,  or  imagine,  or,  in  general,  think  it  to  exist? 
Simply  this ;  —  that,  as  thinking  it,  I  cannot  but  think  it  to  ex- 
ist, in  other  words,  that  /  cannot  annihilate  it  in  thought.  I 
may  think  away  from  it,  I  may  turn  to  other  things ;  and  I  can 
thus  exclude  it  from  my  consciousness ;  but,  actually  thinking 
it,  I  cannot  think  it  as  non-existent,  for  as  it  is  thought,  so  it  is 
thought  existent. 

But  a  thing  is  thought  to  exist,  only  as  it  is  thought  to  exist 
in  time.  Time  is  present,  past,  and  future.  We  cannot  think 
an  object  of  thought  as  non-existent  de  presenti,  —  as  actually 
an  object  of  thought.  But  can  we  think  that  quantum  of  exist- 
ence of  which  an  object,  real  or  ideal,  is  the  complement,  as 


650 


THE   LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


non-existent,  either  in  time  past,  or  in  time  future  ?  Make  the 
experiment.  Try  to  tliink  the  object  of  your  thought  as  non- 
existent in  the  moment  before  the  present.  —  You  cannot 
Try  it  in  the  moment  before  that.  —  You  cannot.  Nor  can 
you  annihilate  it  by  carrying  it  back  to  any  moment,  liowever 
distant  in  the  past.  You  may  conceive  the  parts  of  which  this 
complement  of  existence  is  composed,  as  separated ;  if  a  mate- 
rial object,  you  can  think  it  as  shivered  to  atoms,  subUmated  into 
aether ;  but  not  one  iota  of  existence  can  you  conceive  as  anni- 
hilated, wliich  subsequently  you  thought  to  exist.  In  like 
manner,  try  the  future,  —  try  to  conceive  the  prospective  anni- 
hilation of  any  present  object,  —  of  any  atom  of  any  present 
object.  —  You  cannot.  All  this  may  be  possible,  but  of  it  we 
cannot  think  the  possibility.  But  if  you  can  thus  conceive  nei- 
ther the  absolute  commencement  nor  the  absolute  termination 
of  any  thing  that  is  once  thought  to  exist,  try,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  you  can  conceive  the  opposite  alternative  of  infinite 
non-commencement,  of  infinite  non-termination.  To  this  you 
are  equally  impotent.  This  is  the  category  of  the  Conditioned, 
as  applied  to  the  category  of  Existence  under  the  category  of 
Time. 

But  in  this  application  is  the  principle  of  Causality  not 
given  ?  Why,  what  is  the  law  of  Causahty  ?  Simply  this,  — 
that  when  an  object  is  presented  phainomenally  as  commencing, 
we  cannot  but  suppose  that  the  complement  of  existence,  which 
it  now  contains,  has  previously  been ;  in  other  words,  that  all 
that  w^e  at  present  come  to  know  as  an  effect  must  previously 
have  existed  in  its  causes ;  though  what  these  causes  are  we 
may  perhaps  be  altogether  unable  even  to  surmise. 

The  law  of  the  Conditioned.  —  This  theory,  which  has  not 
hitherto  been  proposed,  is  recommended  by  its  extreme  sim- 
plicity. It  postulates  no  new,  no  special,  no  positive  principle. 
It  only  supposes  that  the  mind  is  limited ;  and  the  law  of  limita- 
tion, the  law  of  the  Conditioned,  in  one  of  its  applications, 
constitutes  the  law  of  Causality.  The  mind  is  necessitated  to 
think  certain  forms ;  and,  under  these  forms,  thought  is  only  pos- 
sible in  the  interval  between  two  contradictory  extremes,  both  of 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


551 


\i 


which  are  absolutely  inconceivable,  but  one  of  which,  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  Excluded  Middle,  is  necessarily  true.  In  reference  to 
the  present  subject,  it  is  only  requisite  to  specify  two  of  these 
forms,  —  Existence  and  Time.  I  showed  you  that  thought  is 
only  possible  under  the  native  conceptions,  —  the  a  priori 
forms,  —  of  existence  and  time ;  in  other  words,  the  notions  of 
existence  and  time  are  essential  elements  of  every  act  of  intelli- 
gence. But  while  the  mind  is  thus  astricted  to  certain  necessary 
modes  or  forms  of  thought,  in  these  forms  it  can  only  think 
under  certain  conditions.  Thus,  while  obliged  to  think  under 
the  thought  of  time,  it  cannot  conceive,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
absolute  commencement  of  time,  and  it  cannot  conceive,  on  the 
other,  the  infinite  non-commencement  of  time ;  in  like  manner, 
on  the  one  hand,  it  cannot  conceive  an  absolute  minimum  of 
time,  nor  yet,  on  the  other,  can  it  conceive  the  infinite  divisi- 
bility of  time.  Yet  these  form  two  pairs  of  contradictories,  that 
is,  of  counter-propositions,  which,  if  our  intelligence  be  not  all  a 
lie,  cannot  both  be  true,  but  of  which,  on  the  same  authority, 
one  necessarily  must  be  time.  This  proves :  1°,  That  it  is  not 
competent  to  argue,  that  what  cannot  be  comprehended  as  possible 
by  us,  is  impossible  in  reality ;  and  2°,  That  the  iiecessiiies  of 
thought  are  not  always  positive  powers  of  cognition,  but  often 
negative  inabilities  to  know.  The  law  of  mind,  that  all  that  is 
positively  conceivable,  lies  in  the  interval  between  two  incon- 
ceivable extremes,  and  which,  however  palpable  when  stated, 
has  never  been  generalized,  as  far  as  I  know,  by  any  philoso- 
pher, I  call  the  Law  or  Principle  of  the  Conditioned. 

ITiis  law  in  its  application  affords  the  phcenomenon  of  Caus- 
ality. —  Thus,  the  whole  phaenomenon  of  causality  seems  to  me 
to  be  nothing  more  than  the  law  of  the  Conditioned,  in  its 
application  to  a  thing  thought  under  the  form  or  mental  cate- 
gory of  Existence,  and  under  the  form  or  mental  category  of 
Time.  We  cannot  know,  we  cannot  think  a  thing,  except  as 
existing,  that  is,  under  the  category  of  existence ;  and  we  cannot 
know  or  tliink  of  a  tiling  as  existing,  except  in  time.  Now  the 
application  of  the  law  of  the  conditioned  to  any  object,  thought 
as  existent,  and  thought  as  in  time,  will  give  us  at  once  the 


aO 


2 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


phjenomenon  of  causality.  And  thus :  —  An  object  is  given  us, 
either  by  sense  or  suggestion,  —  imagination.  As  known,  we 
cannot  but  think  it  existent,  and  in  time.  But  to  say  that  we 
cannot  but  think  it  to  exist,  is  to  say,  that  we  are  unable  to 
think  it  non-existent ;  that  is,  that  we  are  unable  to  annihilate  it 
in  thought.  And  this  we  cannot  do.  We  may  turn  aside  from 
it ;  we  may  occupy  our  attention  with  other  objects ;  and  we 
may  thus  exclude  it  from  our  thoughts.  This  is  certain :  we 
need  not  think  it ;  but  it  is  equally  certain,  that  thinking  it,  we 
cannot  think  it  not  to  exist.  This  will  be  at  once  admitted  of 
the  present;  but  it  may  possibly  be  denied  of  the  past  and 
future.  But  if  we  make  the  experiment,  we  shall  find  the 
mental  annihilation  of  an  object  equally  impossible  under  time 
past,  present,  or  future. 

Annihilation  and  Creation,  —  as  conceived  hy  us.  —  To  obvi- 
ate  misapprehension,  however,  I   must   make  a  very  simple 
observation.     When  I  say  that  it  is  impossible  to  annihilate  an 
object  in  thought  —  in  other  words,  to  conceive  it  as  non-exist- 
ent,—  it  is  of  course  not  meant  that  it  is  impossible  to  imagine 
the  object  wholly  changed  in  form.     We  can  figure  to  ourselves 
the  elements  of  which  it  is  composed,  distributed  and  arranged 
and  modified  in  iQi\  thousand  forms,  —  we  can  imagine  any  thin«^ 
of  it,  short  of  annihilation.     But  the  complement,  the  quantum, 
of  existence,  which  is  realized  in  any  object,  —  that  we  can  [not] 
represent  to  ourselves,  either  as  increased,  without  abstraction 
from  other  bodies,  or  as  diminished,  without  addition  to  them.    In 
short,  we  are  unable  to  construe  it  in  thought,  that  there  can  be 
an  atom  absolutely  added  to,  or  an  atom  absolutely  taken  away 
from,  existence  in  general.     Make  the  experiment.     Form  tc 
yourselves  a  notion  of  the  universe  ;  now  can  you  conceive  thai 
the  quantity  of  existence,  of  which  the  universe  is  the  sum,  ia 
either  amplified  or  diminished  ?     You  can  conceive  the  creation 
of  a  world  as  lightly  as  you  conceive  the  creation  of  an  atom. 
But  what  is  a  creation  ?     It  is  not  the  springing  of  nothing  into 
something.     Far  from  it:  —  it  is  conceived,  and  is  by  us  con- 
ceivable, merely  as  the  evolution  of  a  new  form  of  existence,  by 
the  fiat  of  the  Deity.     Let  us  suppose  the  very  crisis  of  creation. 


<  '  I 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


5d, 


Can  we  realize  it  to  ourselves,  in  thought,  that,  the  moment 
after  the  universe  came  into  manifested  being,  there  was  a 
larger  complement  of  existence  in  the  universe  and  its  Author 
together,  than  there  was  the  moment  before,  in  the  Deity  him- 
self alone  ?     This  we  cannot  imagine.     Wliat  I  have  now  said 
of  our  conceptions  of  creation,  holds  true  of  our  conceptions  of 
annihilation.     We  can  conceive  no  real  annihilation,  —  no  abso- 
lute sinking  of  something  mto  nothing.     But,  as  creation  is 
cogitable  by  us  only  as  an  exertion  of  divine  power,  so  annihila- 
tion is  only  to  be  conceived  by  us  as  a  withdrawal  of  the  divine 
support.     All  that  there  is  now  actually  of  existence  in  the 
universe,  we  conceive  as  having  virtually  existed,  prior  to  crea- 
tion, in  the  Creator ;  and  in  imagining  the  universe  to  be  anni- 
hilated by  its  Author,  we  can  only  imagine  this,  as  the  retracta- 
tion of  an  outward  energy  into  power.     All  this  shows  how 
impossible  it  is  for  the  human  mind  to  think  aught  that  it  thinks, 
as  non-existent  either  in  time  past  or  in  time  future. 

[Our  inability  to  think  what  we  have  once  conceived  existent 
in  Time,  as  in  time  becoming  non-existent,  corresponds  with  our 
inability  to  think,  what  we  have  conceived  existent  in  Space, 
as  in  space  becoming  non-existent.  We  cannot  realize  it  to 
thought,  that  a  thing  should  be  extruded,  either  from  the  one 
quantity  or  the  other.  Hence,  under  extension,  the  law  of 
Ukimate  Incompressibility ;  under  protension,  the  law  of  Cause 
and  Effect.]  —  Discussions, 

Infinite  regress,  or  non-commencement,  equally  inconceiva- 
ble. —  We  have  been  hitherto  speaking  only  of  one  inconceiva- 
ble extreme  of  the  conditioned,  in  its  application  to  the  category 
of  existence  in  the  category  of  time,  —  the  extreme  of  absolute 
commencement ;  the  other  is  equally  incomprehensible,  that  is, 
the  extreme  of  infinite  regress  or  non-commencement.  With 
this  latter  we  have,  however,  at  present  nothing  to  do.  [Indeed, 
as  not  obtrusive,  the  Infinite  figures  far  less  in  the  theatre  of 
mind,  and  exerts  a  far  inferior  influence  in  the  modification  of 
thought,  than  the  Absolute.  It  is,  in  fact,  both  distant  and 
deUtesceht ;  and  in  place  of  meeting  us  at  every  turn,  it  requires 
some  exertion  on  our  part  to  seek  it  out.]     It  is  the  former 

47 


oD4t 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


THE   LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


alone,  —  it  is   the  inability  we  experience  of  annihilating   in 
thought  an  existence  in  time  past,  in  other  words,  our   utter 
impotence  of  conceiving  its  absolute  commencement,  that  consti- 
tutes and  explains  the  whole  phaenomenon  of  causality.     An 
object  is  presented  to  our  observation  which  has  phaenomenally 
begun  to  be.     Well,  we  cannot  realize  it  in  thought  that  the 
object,  that  is,  this  determinate  complement  of  existence,  had 
really  no  being  at  any  past  moment ;  because  this  supposes  that, 
once  thinking  it  as  existent,  we  could  again  think  it  as  non- 
existent, which  is  for  us  impossible.     What,  then,  can  we  do  ? 
That  the  phaenomenon  presented  to  us  began,  as  a  phaenomenon, 
to  be,  —  this  we  know  by  experience ;  but  that  the  elements  of 
its  existence  only  began,  when  the  phaenomenon  they  constitute 
came  into  being,  —  this  we  are  wholly  unable  to  represent  in 
thought.     In  these  circumstances,  how  do  we  proceed  ?  —  How 
must  we  proceed?     There  is  only  one  possible  mode.     We  are 
compelled  to  believe  that  the  object  (that  is,  a  certain  quale  and 
quantum  of  being)  whose  phaenomenal  rise  into  existence  we 
have  witnessed,  did  really  exist,  prior  to  this  rise,  under  other 
forms ;  [and  by  form,  be  it  observed,  I  mean  any  mode  of 
existence,  conceivable  by  us  or  not].     But  to  say  that  a  thing 
previously  existed  under  different  forms,  is  only  in  other  words 
to  say,  that  a  thing  had  causes.     I  have  already  noticed  to  you 
the  error  of  philosophers  in  supposing,  that  any  thing  can  have 
a  single  cause.     Of  course,  I  speak  only  of  Second  Causes.     Of 
the  causation  of  the  Deity  we  can  form  no  possible  conception. 
Of  Second  Causes,  I  say,  there  must  almost  always  be  at  least  a 
concurrence  of  two  to  constitute  an  effect.     Take  the  example 
of  vapor.     Here,  to  say  that  heat  is  the  cause  of  evaporation, 
is  a  very  inaccurate,  —  at  least  a  very  inadequate,  expression. 
Water  is  as  much  the  cause  of  evaporation  as  heat.     But  heat 
and  water  together  are  the  causes  of  the  phaenomenon.     Nay, 
there  is  a  third  concause  which  we  have  forgot,  —  the  atmos- 
phere.    Now,  a  cloud  is  the  result  of  these  three  concurrent 
causes  or  constituents ;  and,  knowing  this,  we  find  no  difficulty 
in  carrying  back  the  complement  of  existence,  which  it  contains 
prior  to  its  appearance.     But  on  the  hypothesis,  that  we  are  not 


5oo 


aware  what  are  the  real  constituents  or  causes  of  the  cloud,  the 
human  mind  must  still  perforce  suppose  some  unknown,  some 
hypothetical,  antecedents,  into  which  it  mentally  refunds  all  th« 
existence  which  the  cloud  is  thought  to  contain.* 

Uniform  succession  not  a  necessary  prerequisite  for  the  causal 

« 

*  [My  doctrine  of  Causality  is  accused  of  neglecting  the  phaenomenon  of 
change,  and  of  ignoring  the  attribute  of  power.  This  objection  precisely 
reverses  the  fact.  Causation  is  by  me  proclaimed  to  be  identical  with 
change,  —  change  of  power  into  act  ("omnia  mutantur");  change,  how- 
ever, only  of  appearance,  — w§  being  unable  to  realize  in  thought  either 
existence  (substance)  apart  from  phsenomena,  or  existence  absolutely  com- 
mencing, or  absolutely  terminating.  And  specially  as  to  power ;  power  is 
the  property  of  an  existent  something  (for  it  is  thought  only  as  the  essential 
attribute  of  what  is  so  or  so  to  exist) ;  power  is,  consequently,  the  correla- 
tive of  existence,  and  a  necessary  supposition,  in  this  theory,  of  causation. 
Here  the  cause,  or  rather  the  complement  of  causes,  is  nothing  but  powers 
capable  of  producing  the  effect ;  and  the  effect  is  only  that  now  existing 
actually,  which  previously  existed  potentially,  or  in  the  causes.  We  must, 
in  truth,  define  — a  cause,  the  power  of  effectuating  a  change;  and  an 
effect,  a  change  actually  caused. 

Mutation,  Causation,  Effectuation,  are  only  the  same  thought  in  differ- 
ent respects ;  they  may,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  virtually  terms  converti- 
ble. Eveiy  change  is  an  effect;  every  effect  is  a  change.  An  effect  is,  in 
truth,  just  a  change  of  power  into  act ;  every  effect  being  an  actualization  of 
the  potential. 

But  what  is  now  considered  as  the  cause  may  at  another  time  be  viewed 
as  the  effect ;  and  vice  versa.  Thus,  we  can  extract  the  acid  or  the  alkali, 
as  effect,  out  of  the  salt,  as  principal  concause ;  and  the  square  which,  as 
effect,  is  made  up  of  two  triangles  in  conjunction,  may  be  viewed  as  cause 
when  cut  into  these  figures.  In  opposite  views.  Addition  and  Multiplica- 
tion, Subtraction  and  Division,  may  be  regarded  as  causes,  or  as  effects. 

Power  is  an  attribute  or  property  of  existence,  but  not  coextensive  with  it; 
for  we  may  suppose  (negatively  think)  things  to  exist  wliich  have  no  capac- 
ity of  change,  no  capacity  of  appearing. 

Creation  is  the  existing  subsequently  in  act  of  what  previously  existed  in 
power;  annihilation,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  subsequent  existence  in  ;90M;er 
of  what  previously  existed  in  act. 

Except  the  first  and  last  causal  agencies  (and  these,  as  Divine  operations, 
are  by  us  incomprehensible),  every  other  is  conceived  also  as  an  effect  i 
therefore,  every  event  is,  in  different  relations,  a  power  and  an  act.  Con- 
sidered as  a  cause,  it  is  a  power,  —  a  power  to  cooperate  an  effect.  Consid- 
ered as  an  effect,  it  is  an  act,  — an  act  cooperated  by  causes.]  —Appendix. 


i 


•o6 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


judgment.  —  Nothing  can  be  a  greater  error  in  itself,  or  a  more 
fertile  cause  of  delusion,  than  the  common  doctrine,  that  the 
causal  judgment  is  elicited  only  when  we  apprehend  objects  in 
consecution,  and  uniform  consecution.  Of  course,  the  observa- 
tion of  such  succession  prompts  and  enables  us  to  assign  partic- 
-ular  causes  to  particular  effects.  But  this  consideration  ought 
to  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  law  of  Causality,  abso- 
lutely, which  consists  not  in  the  empirical  attribution  of  this 
phoenomenon,  as  cause,  to  that  phaenomenon  as  effect,  but  in  the 
universal  necessity,  of  which  we  are  conscious,  to  think  causes 
for  every  event,  whether  that  event  sland  isolated  by  itself,  and 
be  by  us  referable  to  no  other,  or  whether  it  be  one  in  a  series 
of  successive  phenomena,  which,  as  it  were,  spontaneously  ar- 
range themselves  under  the  relation  of  effect  and  cause.  [Of 
no  phaenomenon,  as  observed,  need  we  think  the  cause ;  but  of 
every  phaenomenon,  must  we  think  a  cause.  The  former  we 
may  learn  through  a  process  of  induction  and  generalization ; 
the  latter  we  must  always  and  at  once  admit,  constrained  by  the 
condition  of  Relativity.  On  this,  not  sunken  rock.  Dr.  Brown 
and  others  have  been  shipwrecked.]  —  Discussions. 

Reasons  for  preferring  this  doctrine.  —  In  the  first  place,  to 
explain  the  phaenomenon  of  the  Causal  Judgment,  it  postulates 
no  new,  no  extraordinary,  no  express  principle.  It  does  not 
even  found  upon  a  positive  power ;  for,  while  it  shows  that  the 
phajnomenon  in  question  is  only  one  of  a  class,  it  assigns,  as 
their  common  cause,  only  a  negative  impotence.  In  tliis,  it 
stands  advantageously  contrasted  with  the  one  other  theory 
which  saves  the  phaenomenon,  but  which  saves  it  only  by  the 
hypothesis  of  a  special  principle,  expressly  devised  to  account 
for  this  phaenomenon  alone.  Nature  never  works  by  more,  and 
more  complex,  instruments  than  are  necessary  ;  —  ^Ar^^h  TtSQir- 
tojg  f  and  to  assume  a  particular  force,  to  perform  what  can  be 
better  explained  by  a  general  imbecilit}',  is  contrary  to  every 
rule  of  philosophizing. 

It  averts  scepticism.  —  But,  in  the  second  place,  if  there  be 
postulated  an  express  and  positive  affirmation  of  intelligence  to 
account  for  the  fact,  that  existence  cannot  absolutely  commence, 


H 

If 


h 


•>  K 


THE   LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 

we  must  equally  postulate  a  counter  affirmation  of  intelligence, 
positive  and  express,  to  explain  the  counter  fact,  that  existence 
cannot  infinitely  not-commence.  The  one  necessity  of  mind  is 
equally  strong  as  the  other ;  and  if  the  one  be  a  positive  doc- 
trine, an  express  testimony  of  intelligence,  so  also  must  be  the 
other.  But  they  are  contradictories;  and,  as  contradictories, 
they  cannot  both  be  true.  On  this  theory,  therefore,  the  root  of 
our  nature  is  a  lie !  By  the  doctrine,  on  the  contrary,  which  I 
propose,  these  contradictory  phaenomena  are  carried  up  into  the 
common  principle  of  a  limitation  of  our  faculties.  IntelHgence 
is  shown  to  be  feeble,  but  not  false ;  our  nature  is,  thus,  not  a 
lie,  nor  the  Author  of  our  nature  a  deceiver. 

It  avoids  fatalism  or  inconsistency.  —  In  the  third  place,  this 
simpler  and  easier  doctrine  avoids  a  serious  inconvenience, 
which  attaches  to  the  more  difficult  and  complex.  It  is  this :  — 
To  suppose  a  positive  and  special  principle  of  causality,  is  to 
suppose,  that  there  is  expressly  revealed  to  us,  through  intelli- 
gence, the  fact  that  there  is  no  free  causation, — that  is,  that  there 
is  no  cause  which  is  not  itself  merely  an  effect ;  existence  being 
only  a  series  of  determined  antecedents  and  determined  conse- 
quents. But  this  is  an  assertion  of  Fatalism.  .Such,  however, 
most  of  the  patrons  of  that  doctrine  will  not  admit.  The  as- 
sertion of  absolute  necessity,  they  are  aware,  is  virtually  the 
negation  of  a  moral  universe,  consequently  of  the  Moral  Gov- 
ernor of  a  moral  universe ;  in  a  word.  Atheism.  Fatalism  and 
Atheism  are,  indeed,  convertible  terms.  The  only  valid  argu- 
ments for  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  for  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  rest  on  the  ground  of  man's  moral  nature;  conse- 
quently, if  that  moral  nature  be  annihilated,  which  in  any 
scheme  of  necessity  it  is,  every  conclusion  established  %n  such 
a  nature,  is  annihilated  also.  Aware  of  this,  some  of  those  who 
make  the  judgment  of  causality  a  special  principle,  —  a  positive 
dictate  of  intelligence,  —  find  themselves  compelled,  in  order  to 
escape  from  the  consequences  of  their  doctrine,  to  deny  that 
this  dictate,  though  universal  in  its  deliverance,  should  be  al- 
lowed to  hold  universally  true;  and,  accordingly,  they  would 
exempt  from  it  the  facts  of  volition.     Will,  they  hold  to  be  a 

47* 


J 


THE    LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


free  cause,  that  is,  a  cause  wldch  is  not  an   effect;  m  otiier 
words,  they  attribute  to  will  the  power  of  absolute  origination  * 
But  here  their  own  principle  of  causality  is  too  strong  for  them. 
They  say,  that   it   is   unconditionally  given,,  as  a  special  and 
positive  law  of  intelligence,  that  every  origination  is  only  an 
apparent,  not  a  real,  commencement.     Now  to  exempt  certain 
phenomena  from  this  law,  for  the  sake  of  our  moral  conscious- 
ness, cannot  be  validly  done.     For,  in  the  first  place,  this  would 
be  to  admit  that  the  mind  is  a  complement  of  contradictory  rev- 
elations.    If  mendacity  be  admitted  of  some  of  our  mental  dW- 
tates,  we  cannot  vindicate  veracity  to  any.     "  Falsus  in  uno, 
falsus  in  omnibus."     Absolute  scepticism  is   hence  the   legiti- 
mate conclusion.     But,  in  the  second  place,  waiving  this  con- 
clusion, what  right  have  we,  on  this  doctrine,  to  subordinate  the 
positive  affirmation  of  causality  to  our  consciousness  of  moral 
liberty,  —  what  right  have  we,  for  the  interest  of  the  latter,  to 
derogate  from  the  universality  of  the  former  ?     We  have  none. 
If  both  ai-e  equally  positive,  we  have  no  right  to  sacrifice  to  the 
other  the  alternative,  which  our  wishes  prompt  us  to  abandon. 

But  the  doctrine  which  I  propose  is  not  exposed  to  these  dif- 
ficulties. It  does  not  suppose  that  the  judgment  of  Causality 
is  founded  on  a  power  of  the  mind  to  recognize  as  necessary  in 
thought  what  is  necessary  in  the  universe  of  existence ;  it,  on 
the  contrary,  founds  this  judgment  merely  on  the  impotence  of 
the  mind  to  conceive  either  of  two  contradictories,  and,  as  one 
or  the  other  of  two  contradictories  must  be  true,  though  both 
cannot,  it  shows  that  there  is  no  ground  for  inferring  from  the 
inability  of  the  mind  to  conceive  an  alternative  as  possible,  that 
such  alternative  is  really  impossible.  At  the  same  time,  if  the 
causal  judgment  be  not  an  aflh-mation  of  mind,  but  merely  an 
incapacity  of  positively  thinking  the  contrary,  it  follows  that 
such  a  negative  judgment  cannot  stand  in  opposition  to  the  posi- 
tive consciousness,  —  the  aifirmative  deliverance,  that  we  are 
truly  the  authors,  —  the  responsible  originators,  of  our  actions, 

*  [To  conceive  a  free  act,  is  to  conceive  an  act,  wliich,  being  a  cause,  is 
not  itself  an  effect;  in  other  words,  to  conceive  an  absolute  conimcnc.Mncnt. 
But  is  such  by  us  conceivable  ?}  — Notes  to  Reid. 


THE   LAW   OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


t/w. 


and  not  merely  links  in  the  adamantine  series  of  effects  and 
causes.     It  appears  to  me  that  it  is  only  on  this  doctrine  that 
we  can  philosophically  vindicate  the  liberty  of  the  will,  — that 
we   can   rationally  assert   to  a   man  "fatis   avolsa   voluntas." 
How  the  will  can  possibly  be  free  must  remain  to  us,  under  the 
present  limitation   of  our  faculties,  wholly  incomprehensible. 
We  caitTiot  conceive  absolute  commencement ;  we  cannot,  there- 
fore, conceive  a  free  volition.     But  as  little  can  we  conceive  the 
alternative  on  which  liberty  is  denied,  on  which  necessity  is  af- 
firmed.    And  in  favor  of  our  moral  nature,  the  fact  that  we  are 
free,  is  given  us  in  the  consciousness  of  an  uncompromising  law 
of  Duty,  in  the  consciousness  of  our  moral  accountability ;  and 
this  fact  of  liberty  cannot  be  redargued  on  the  ground,  that  it  is 
incomprehensible ;  for  the  doctrine  of  the  Conditioned  proves, 
against  the  necessitarian,  that  something  may,  nay  must,  be  true, 
of  which  the  mind  is  wholly  unable  to  construe  to  itself  the 
possibility ;  whilst  it  shows  that  the  objection  of  incomprehen- 
sibility applies  no  less  to  the  doctrine  of  fataHsm  than  tf  the 
doctrine  of  moral  freedom.     If  the  deduction,  therefore,  of  the 
Causal  Judgment,  which  I  have  attempted,  should  speculatively 
prove  correct,  it  will,  I  think,  afford  a  securer  and  more  satis- 
factory foundation  for  our  practical  interests,  than  any  other 
which  has  ever  yet  been  promulgated. 

[The  question  of  Liberty  and  Necessity  may  be  dealt  with  in 
two  ways. 

I.  The  opposing  parties  may  endeavor  to  show  each  that  his 
thesis  is^  distinct,  intelligible,  and  consistent,  whereas  that  the 
anti-thesis  of  his  opponent  is  indistinct,  unintelligible,  and  con- 
tradictory. 

II.  An  opposing  party  may  endeavor  to  show  that  the  thesis 
of  either  side  is  unthinkable,  and  thus  abolish  logically  the 
whole  problem,  as,  on  both  alternatives,  beyond  the°  limits  of 
human  thought ;  it  being,  however,  open  to  him  to  argue  that, 
though  unthinkable,  his  thesis  is  not  annihilated,  there  being 
contradictory  opposites,  one  of  which  must  consequently  be  held 
as  true,  though  we  be  unable  to  think  the  possibility  of  either 
opposite;   whilst  he  may  be  able  to  appeal  to  a  direct  or  indi- 


-V/U 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


rect  declaration  of  our  conscious  nature  in  favor  of  the  alterna- 
tive which  he  maintains.]  —  Appendix, 

Reid  says  that,  according  to  one  meaning  of  the  word  Liberty^ 
"  it  is  opposed  to  confinement  of  the  body  by  superior  force ;  so 
we  say  a  prisoner  is  set  at  liberty,  when  his  fetters  are  knocked 
off  and  he  is  discharged  from  confinement ; "  and  he  grants  that 
"  this  liberty  extends  not  to  the  will."  [This  is  called  Ihe  lih- 
erty  from  Coaction  or  Violence  —  the  liberty  of  Spontaneity  — 
Spontaneity.  In  the  present  question,  this  species  of  liberty 
ought  to  be  thrown  altogether  out  of  account ;  it  is  admitted  by 
all  parties^  it  is  common  equally  to  brutes  and  men;  is  not  a 
peculiar  quality  of  the  will ;  and  is,  in  fact,  essential  to  it,  for 
the  will  cannot  possibly  be  forced.  The  greatest  spontaneity  is, 
in  fact,  the  greatest  necessity.  Thus,  a  hungry  horse,  who  turns 
of  necessity  to  food,  is  said,  on  this  definition  of  liberty,  to  do  so 
with  freedom,  because  he  does  so  spontaneously ;  and,  in  gene- 
ral, the  desire  of  happiness,  which  is  the  most  necessary  ten- 
dency,  will,  on  this  application  of  the  term,  be  the  most  free. 

Again,  "  liberty  is  opposed  to  obligation  by  law,  or  lawful 
authority."  With  this  description  of  Hberty,  also,  the  present 
question  has  no  concern. 

Moral  liberty  does  not  merely  consist  in  the  power  of  doing 
what  we  will,  but  in  the  power  of  willing  what  we  will.  This 
is  variously  denominated  the  Liberty  from  Necessity  —  Moral 
Liberty  —  Philosophical  Liberty  —  Essential  Liberty  —  Liberty 
from  Indifference,  etc.  A  Power  over  the  determinations  of 
our  Will  supposes  an  act  of  Will  that  our  Will  should  deter- 
mine so  and  so ;  for  we  can  only  freely  exert  power  through  a 
rational  determination  or  Volition.  This  definition  of  Liber^ 
is  right.  But  then  question  upon  question  remains  —  and  this 
ad  infinitum.  Have  we  a  power  (a  will)  over  such  anterior 
will  ?  And  until  tliis  question  be  definitively  answered,  which  it 
never  can,  we  must  be  unable  to  conceive  the  possibility  of  the 
fact  of^  Liberty.  But  though  inconceivable,  this  fact  is  not 
therefore  false.  For  there  are  many  contradictories  (and  of 
contradictories,  one  must  and  one  only  can,  be  true),  of  which 
we   are  equally  unable    to  conceive  the    possibility  of  either. 


THE   LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


561 


i 


1  \ 


The  philosophy,  therefore,  which  I  profess,  annihilates  the  theo- 
retical problem  —  How  is  the  scheme  of  Liberty,  or  the  scheme 
of  Necessity,  to  be  rendered  comprehensible  ?  — by  showing 
that  both  schemes  are  equally  inconceivable ;  but  it  estabhshes 
Liberty  practically  as  a  fact,  by  showing  that  it  is  either  itself 
an  immediate  datum,  or  is  involved  in  an  immediate  datum,  of 
consciousness.  Reid  has  done  nothing  to  render  the  scheme  of 
Liberty  conceivable.  But  if  our  inteUectual  nature  be  not  a  He, 
if  our  consciousness  and  conscience  do  not  deceive  us  in  the 
immediate  datum  of  an  Absolute  Law  of  Duty,  we  are  free,  as 
we  are  moral,  agents ;  for  Morality  involves  Liberty  as  its'es- 
sential  condition,  its  ratio  essendi. 

Is  the  person  an  original  undetermined  cause  of  the  determi- 
nation of  his  will  ?     If  he  be  not,  tlien  he  is  not  a  free  agent, 
and  the  scheme  of  Necessity  is  admitted.     If  he  be,  in  the°first 
place,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  the  possibility  of  this ;  and,  in 
the  second,  if  the  fact,  though  inconceivable,  be  allowed,  it  is 
impossible  to  seeJiow  a  cause  undetermined  by  any  motive*  can 
be  a  rational,  moral,  and  accountable  cause.     There  is  no  con- 
ceivable medium  between  Fatalism  and  Casuism  ;  and  the  con- 
tradictory schemes  of  Liberty  and  Necessity  themselves  are 
inconceivable.     For,  as  we  cannot  compass  in  thought  an  unde^ 
termined  cause  — an  absolute  commencement  —  ihQ  fundamental 
hypothesis  of  the  one ;   so  we  can  as   little  think  an  infinite 
series  of  determined  causes  —  of  relative  commencements  —  the 
fundamental  hypothesis  of  the  other.     The  champions  of  the 

*  [A  motive,  abstractly  considered,  is  called  an  end  or  final  cause.  It  is 
well  denominated  in  the  Greek  philosophy,  rb  ivsKa  ov  —  thatfiyr  the  sake  of 
which.  A  motive,  however,  in  its  concrete  reality,  is  nothing  apart  from  the 
mmd,  — only  a  mental  tendency. 

If  motives  '^  influence  to  action,"  as  Reid  says,  they  must  cooperate  in 
producing  a  certain  effect  upon  the  agent ;  and  the  determination  to  act, 
and  to  act  in  a  certain  manner,  is  that  efi^ect.  They  are  thus,  on  Reid's  o>vii 
view,  m  this  relation,  causes,  and  efficient  causes.  It  is  of  no  consequence 
m  the  argument  whether  motives  be  said  to  determine  a  man  to  act,^r  to  in- 
fluence (that  is,  to  determine)  him  to  determine  himself  to  act.  It  does 
not,  therefore,  seem  consistent  to  say  that  motives  are  not  causes,  and  that 
they  do  not  act.]  —Notes  to  Reid. 


562 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED. 


563 


opposite  doctrines  are  thus  at  once  resistless  in  assault,  and  im- 
potent in  defence.  Each  is  hewn  down  and  appears  to  die 
under  the  home-thrusts  of  his  adversary ;  but  each  again  recov- 
ers life  from  the  very  death  of  his  antagonist,  and,  to  borrow  a 
simile,  both  are  like  the  heroes  in  Valhalla,  ready  in  a  moment 
to  amuse  themselves  anew  in  the  same  bloodless  and  intermina- 
ble conflict.  The  doctrine  of  Moral  Liberty  cannot  be  made 
conceivable,  for  we  can  only  conceive  the  determined  and  the 
relative.  As  already  stated,  all  that  can  be  done  is  to  show,  1°, 
That,  for  the  fact  of  Liberty,  we  have,  immediately  or  medi- 
ately, the  evidence  of  consciousness ;  and,  2°,  That  there  are, 
among  the  phoenomena  of  mind,  many  facts  which  we  must  ad- 
mit as  actual,  but  of  whose  possibility  we  are  wholly  unable  to 
form  any  notion.  I  may  merely  observe  that  the  fact  of  Motion 
can  be  shown  to  be  impossible,  on  grounds  not  less  strong  than 
those  on  which  it  is  attempted  to  disprove  the  fact  of  Liberty; 
to  say  nothing  of  many  contradictories,  neither  of  which  can  be 
thought,  but  one  of  which  must,  on  the  laws-  of  Contradiction 
and  Excluded  Middle,  necessarily  he. 

It  is  proper  to  notice,  that,  as  to  live  is  to  act,  and  as  man  is 
not  free  to  live  or  not  to  live,  so  neither,  absolutely  speaking,  is 
he  free  to  act  or  not  to  act.  As  he  lives,  he  is  necessarily  de- 
termined to  act  or  energize  —  to  think  and  will;  and  all  the 
liberty  to  which  he  can  pretend,  is  to  choose  between  this  mode 
of  action  and  that.  In  Scholastic  language,  man  cannot  have 
the  liberty  of  freedom,  though  he  may  have  the  liberty  of  speci- 
fication. The  root  of  his  freedom  is  thus  necessity.  Nay,  we 
cannot  conceive  otherwise  even  of  the  Deity.  As  we  must 
think  Him  as  necessarily  existent,  and  necessarily  living,  so  we 
must  think  him  as  necessarily  active.  Such  are  the  conditions 
of  human  thought.  When  Dr.  Clarke  says,  ''The  true  defini- 
tion of  Liberty  is  the  Power  to  Act"  he  should  have  recollected 
that  this  power  is,  on  his  own  hypothesis,  absolutely  fatal  if  it 
cannot  but  act."]  —  Notes  to  JReid. 

[Substance  and  Quality  are,  manifestly,  only  thought  as  mu- 
tual relatives.  We  cannot  think  a  Quality  existing  alisolutely, 
in  or  of  itself.     We  are  constrained  to  think  it  as  inherins  in 


li 


i 


some  basis,  substratum,  hypostasis,  or  Substance ;  but  this  Sub- 
stance  cannot  be  conceived  by  us  except  negatively,  that  is,  aa 
the  unapparent  —  the  inconceivable,  correlative  of  certain  ap- 
pearing Quahties.     If  we  attempt  to  think  it  positively,  we  can 
think  it  only  by  transforming  it  into  a  QuaHty  or  bundle  of  Qual- 
ities, which,  again,  we  are  compelled  to  refer  to  an  unknown 
substance,  now  supposed  for  their  incogitable   basis.     Every 
thing,  in  fact,  may  be  conceived  as  the  Quality,  or  as  the  Sub- 
stance of  something  else.    But  Absolute  Substance  and  Absolute 
Quality,  these  are  both  inconceivable,  as  more  than  negations  of 
the  conceivable.     It  is   hardly  requisite  to  observe,  that  the 
term  Substance  is  vulgarly  apphed,  in  the  abusive  signification, 
to  a  congeries  of  qualities,  denoting  those  especially  which  are 
more  permanent,  in  contrast  to  those  which  are  more  transitory. 
What  has  now  been  said,  applies  equally  to  IVIind  and  Matter. 

Space  applies,  proximately,  to  thmgs  considered  as  Substance  ; 
for  the  qualities  of  substances,  though  they  are  in,  may  not  oc- 
cupy, space.  In  fact,  it  is  by  a  merely  modern  abuse  of  the 
term,  that  the  affections  of  Extension  have  been  styled  Quali- 
ties. It  is  extremely  difficult  for  the  human  mind  to  admit  the 
possibility  of  unextended  Substance.  Extension,  being  a  con- 
dition of  positive  thinking,  clings  to  all  our  conceptions;  and  it 
is  one  merit  of  the  philosophy  of  the  Conditioned,  that  it  proves 
space  to  be  only  a  law  of  Thought,  and  not  a  law  of  Things.  — 
Discussions, 


THE    END. 


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